The vault case
by honeyshot
Summary: When Potter is assigned to catch an impressive underground vault thief, he fails to notice there is no evidence to work with...All Harry does notice, is Draco Malfoy's...flirtations. NC-17 for future chapters.
1. Chocolate frogs and blue laces

When Harry James Potter stumbled into the Ministry cafe, it was quite clear from his stance, ragged breath and vacant expression that he had just returned from a wearing case. It had been ridiculously complicated to hunt down the criminal. After weeks of investigating along side Ron, Harry had traced the culprit all the way in Hull and when the time was finally right, he arrested him and brought him back to London. Now that Harry was home, he wanted nothing more than to enjoy a nice cup of coffee with his best friends, Ronald and Hermione Weasley.

Our story begins when Mr. Potter was just 22 years, 9 months and 6 days old. The young man was only a novice Auror at this point but inevitably well on his way to greatness; this story is but a small chunk of that journey.

The cafe was one of Harry's favourite places in the Ministry of Magic premises, after the atrium of course (as well as a certain someone's office...however let's just say Harry would not like to think of that place as somewhere at all significant).

The cafe, named the Holly Leaf, reminded Harry of the Gryffindor common room. All the walls had wonderful brick panels apart from the far wall with its thin windows. That wall was painted dark brown. For a cafe, it was unusually large with many round wooden tables and red chairs. Along the wall opposite the bar, numerous different red corner sofas each held happily chatting friends, resting their drinks and food on fat oak tables. Magical top-of-the-range coffee makers were along the counter and the bar was made with wood stained using a deep crimson varnish. The Leaf was lively, full of cheerful customers around the clock. The entire effect was welcoming and unpretentious.

As the Auror glanced around, looking for his friends, his small smile faded.

...He was the _first _person Harry noticed.

Leaning against a wall, speaking to an annoyingly good-looking woman from accounts... was Draco Malfoy_. _As he spoke to the woman, his sly grin curled into placed as he moved his hands and head far too gracefully. Over the years, Malfoy had not managed to grow any taller than Harry; he remained slightly shorter, just like in the last years of school. Draco was a bit gaunt, oddly thin and pale but still donned that striking white blonde hair well. In the Holly Leaf, he looked like lonely piercing snow in a red autumn field. Draco knew he was chillingly handsome as well as sharp. Using these attributes, his phenomenal wealth and witty character, Malfoy had managed to climb into the Ministry's high seats where he sat proudly, boasting about his wages and how excellent he was at his job. Unsurprisingly, he was well respected throughout the ministry.

It had surprised many, given the past being so…complicated.

A part of Harry could not stand how rapidly Draco had manufactured himself into such a success. It felt as though the tables had turned between them since Hogwarts; Draco finally in the centre of attention. As though he had heard his name in someone's thoughts, Malfoy shot his eyes straight into Harry's. Ignoring the woman's babbling, Draco smiled at Harry from across the café and held his gaze.

With a heavy gulp, Harry nodded back awkwardly. But then something else caught his attention: something familiar…and loud.

...It was definitely much easier to say Harry had heard his friends rather than saw them.

Turning his head towards the edges of the room, just as Harry had suspected, sitting on a corner table at the far end of the Holly Leaf was Mr and Mrs Weasley. Harry decided to make his way towards them and after edging around tables and ignoring the tickling feeling that he was being religiously watched, the argument became louder and clearer; something about Ron's chocolate frogs.

"I don't give a flaming hippogriff what _Vicky _has to say about my diet, I'm not going to stop eating them!" Ron said, rather angrily.

An extraordinarily pregnant Hermione turned her head to scowl at Ron. When she was in this frightening state, why Ron argued with her Harry would never understand. "_Victor,_ okay, _Victor..._is an expert herbologist and dietician." Hermione pointed out. "He has helped me keep healthy throughout these last eight months. Even your mother agrees he's fantastic…and she also agrees that _you _should start caring about your physique also!"

There was a long pause before Ron asked his ridiculously dumb question. "...Are you trying to say I'm getting fucking tubby?" Ron asked angrily, arms now folded.

Harry sighed as he tucked in his chair. He held his breath...and braced himself for the explosion. Naturally...it followed.

"YOU'RE TUBBY? LOOK AT ME RONALD. I'M A BALLOON. A PLANET. A WHOLE OTHER UNIVERSE. I'M HORNY, HUNGRY AND MISERABLE ALL THE TIME. SO, I AM _SO SO_SORRY THAT I TRY TO HAVE_SOME_CONCERN FOR MY HUSBAND'S WELL BEING BECAUSE ALL THIS-" Hermione reached over the table with a great amount of difficulty to yank a chocolate frog, which she threw at Ron. "-WILL MAKE YOU ILL."

Hermione scrambled out of her chair, clearly ticked off judging by the way she snatched her cup of decaffeinated tea off the table and uncharacteristically ignored Harry. "And for the record, I would appreciate it if you did not swear at me like I'm some common shit you hardly know." She leaned in close to Ronald's face, which was now quivering ever so slightly. "I'M HAVING YOUR BABY."

Harry snickered.

Hermione then performed a quite horrible habit she had picked up recently: hitting Ron sharply on the forehead with the hardest part of the palm of her hand, forcing a pained "AAAAAAAAAH!" out of Ron every-time. With that, she was gone.

Ignoring the scraping of chairs as people avoided a collision with the giant muttering Hermione stomping through the cafe or the yelp of terrified wizards and witches dodging around her, Ron rubbed his forehead. "Annoying woman," he murmured. Ron then picked up a frog and bit it's head off, ignoring the chocolate legs kicking with agony.

Harry grinned and helped himself to one of the many pieces of chocolate on the table. "Seriously Ron, you might as well have said you killed a House Elf."

"I would've got the same ruddy reaction, mate." Ron replied as he dropped his hand. Harry's friend then dragged a steaming cup across the table, which Harry had overlooked. "Got you your usual, mate."

"Fanks, Ronnie." Harry squeaked mockingly, as he took a generous sip.

Ron rolled his eyes. "So anyway, abut this Hull case, when did...a...time wh'..."

The voice faded into nothing, stirring easily with the clanks of cups and chit-chat of locals around them, laughing at a dirty joke, tapping their tables, sipping on hot drinks. Harry had focused on the man directly behind Ron's head...staring back at him.

Malfoy smiled and lazily dragged a pointy tongue out his mouth to caress the left of his upper lip.

The Auror felt undignified when blood rapidly dropped from his face and trailed coldly down his spine. Draco did it again, only slower, his eyes invading Harry's, locked on prey. The blood fell south even more, gathering uncomfortably in the middle of his thighs. Harry twitched slightly knowing his expression was tight, rigid and ridiculous when Malfoy's wet muscle did that lewd swiping a _third time_.

"Harry, you've got some froth on your lip." a concerned voice said.

"Huh...wha'?"

A quick yank on the shoulder stole Harry away from Draco. His red-headed partner looked at him cautiously before tapping his own face, right on the left side of his lip. Feeling a strong pool of embarrassment blaze his face and drown his stomach, Harry touched his lips and inspected his finger. The frothy top of coffee sat happily at the tip of one of fingers. His face burnt a thousand times harder when he heard that sharp drawling chuckle edge through the crowd.

Ron heard it too. He turned, noticed a flash of the brightest blonde and moved back to the table, smiling slightly. "Oh, right." Ron chuckled.

That earned him another famous Hermione-style-_thwack_ on the Head. Harry lunged at Ron and wrestled him violently...when Ron just laughed in his bright-red face.

* * *

Kingsley, head Auror, was waiting for Ron and Harry to return to their office. He was becoming very impatient.

When the pair walked in laughing, they cut their joke short when they saw the look on Kingsley's face. They apologised to their boss repeatedly as they sat down at their desks.

Kingsley tossed a file towards Harry, who caught it and turned to the first page. Three blunt little words had been typed onto the first page, using what was presumably an enchanted typewriter; it read the "The vault case."

'_This must be the code reference given to the investigation,' _Harry thought to himself. The Auror looked over the file at his boss, who was watching him carefully. _'Wow…big case then.' _Usually several Aurors were involved with one case therefore giving code names to every problem that the Auror Department faced was simply impractical. However, a coded case meant that the case had the potential of making big publicity, the type that was not good for the Ministry; it also meant the case was _exclusive_. Ron and Harry, having only been Aurors for several months, had never been assigned a coded case.

This was the moment to prove themselves.

Guessing the nature of the problem, Harry looked up and asked, "How much was stolen?"

Ron looked at Harry then at Kingsley, waiting for an answer. Kingsley licked his lips and swiftly said "6 million galleons."

Ron dropped his chocolate frogs causing a dozen of them to be set free, allowing them to hop around as they pleased. Ignoring the ribetting and croaking of dying sweets, Harry continued, "Why was so much money held in the Ministry?"

"The Minister got back to me with that this morning. He had 3 outstanding loans that needed to be paid off. 1.5 million owed to the Redknock family in Southampton, 2.5 million for the Harpies Quidditch team currently in Glasgow and 2 million for the French Foreign Ambassador for international Magical Trade, a Mr. Justin Labro. Our number one guess is that _he _is behind all this. He needed money and fast. Other countries owed him also…obviously took advantage of his wealth and generosity."

At this point, Ron was climbing a filing cabinet, trying to rescue a frog.

"No one has heard from him since the robbery yesterday evening. But this is a sensitive one. Labro has the power to influence muggles and wizards alike so-"

THUD. Ron, the filing cabinet and a splat of chocolate were all lying on the floor, not moving. The thunderous yet unexpected sound nearly made Harry and Kingsley fall out of their chairs; the two men whisked their heads round to the fallen cabinet. Papers were flying through the air from the impact and both the other wizards were trying to restart their hearts. Kingsley sighed angrily before getting up. The head Auror grabbed Ron's limp wrist, nodding to confirm that Ron was IN FACT very much still alive before turning a questioning eye towards Harry.

Harry shrugged and said, "...Maybe he does have too much sugar."

Kingsley sat down again and clasped his hands together, looking at Harry. "That is all I can tell you." he said.

Ron dizzily got up, not looking at either of the men. He stumbled towards the chair, staggering dangerously, before he sat down at his desk, clutching his forehead embarrassment and pain filling his senses.

"Does anyone else know?" Harry asked after a moment's deliberation.

"Me, you, half of Weasley's brain, the minister and the head of Accounts." Kingsley said.

At the last one, Ron turned his head suddenly, grinning knowingly at Harry, who ignored him. Harry then added, "I'll need full details on who has access, all security and transactions to the vault."

Kingsley smiled at Harry's efficiency. "I'm sure they have enough initiative up in accounts to know what you need, Mr Potter."

"I'm sure they do." Ron muttered, beaming at Harry still.

As Kingsley left the room, Harry thought to himself. He knew this had to be a fast moving case. A lot of money was missing and the public was not allowed to find out at any cost. If they did, the consequences would be unbelievable.

"I'm going to get the report from accounts myself," Harry told Ron as he stood. "Merlin knows how long they'll take otherwise."

Harry tucked in his chair and made for the door as he listened to Ronald speak. "You sure are in a hurry to go running to the head of accounts, Harry," Ron said, tilting his head and fumbling with his quill. "Something you're not telling me?"

Harry scowled at Ron's grin and snapped, "Don't make me zap your knob off." He hastily left the room, leaving his chuckling friend to sit alone.

The dark-haired men frowned as he walked and then turned a corner. _'Ron ALWAYS acts this way when accounts is involved; really pisses me off. There's nothing going on between me and-'_

And there he was...

...as though right on queue.

Annoyingly, Harry's breath hitched slightly when he saw a man with striking white hair and typical black suit white shirt combination walking towards him. Draco had been staring at his feet as he walked but had shot his eyes up as soon as he heard Harry's gasp. Both men awkwardly stopped moving, watching each other carefully. The Auror subconsciously ran his hand through his hair before stumbling to stand in front of Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy." Harry greeted politely.

"Harry." Draco said, equally as civil. He grinned at Harry, as he waited for him to gather his thoughts.

"Urrr, Malfoy we need to get the case sorted as quickly as possible." Harry said in a professional manner. Draco leaned the side of his head against the wall but said nothing.

"So where is it?"

Malfoy, bemused, said, "Where's what?"

Harry looked at him, clearly annoyed at his false-stupidity. "You know what. I assumed that's why you're in this part of the ministry to, you know, give it to me." he said angrily. He regretted his choice of words instantly as he watched Draco's mouth pull into a toothy, amused grin.

"Giv-?" Draco started, raising his eyebrows.

Harry interrupted him, not wanting the conversation to sway down a stupid route. "You know what I mean Malfoy. Now hand it over."

With that, Harry held out the palm of his hand and gazed at Malfoy expectantly.

The blonde still looked confused.

"Potthead, are you, or are you not, trying to flirt with me? Because if not, I'm getting bored." Draco asked, finding Potter's confused and angry expression which followed extremely funny. He blinked slowly as Harry stuttered.

"Wha-? I…No." Harry piped. He gawped into Draco's amused shining grey eyes. "And what do you mean '_trying_ to flirt' with you?" Harry asked, still sounding wound up.

Draco shrugged before saying "Just, if you were, it was a pitiful attempt."

Harry opened his mouth but then realised this was not worth arguing about. "I need the pa-per worrrk." Harry said extremely slowly.

"What pa-per worrrk?" Draco replied, mocking Harry's wide-eyed expression.

Harry relaxed his expression and gaped at Malfoy, the irritation clear on his handsome face. Malfoy shrugged enquiringly. "Draco, are you a retarded accountant?" Harry asked quietly.

Malfoy smiled at the rare 'Draco' but then bit his lip and tried to look thoughtful. "…Listen, Potter. No one told m-" Draco started to mutter but Harry cut him off.

"Why the fuck would we? Standard procedure, Malfoy. Standard! The ministry looses money; we need to paper work behind it. Super standard," Harry hissed. When he began to turn away, Draco yanked his shoulders and forced Harry to look at him.

Draco pondered, scanning the corridor's walls. He then snapped his fingers and made a bright red file appear out of nowhere, much to Harry's surprise.

"You are absolutely right, Harry. It is obvious. Stop pointing things out to people who are clearly ahead of you and your _standard_ procedure." Draco smiled as Harry snatched the file.

"I chose that cover especially." Draco said slowly, his tone now different.

Harry was about to open the document but he looked up at Draco when he had spoken. Draco's eyes were glazed like marble; his face was far too close...so close that Harry could make out the shines of white and darker rims in his irises. His slack jaw smoothed down his features and gave his qualities justice. Draco's expression was taunt so pulled him off as unique...but attractive.

"It's very _you. _Very _red._" Draco said slurring quietly. The accountant's face was suddenly mere inches from Harry's. Before Harry could enquire as to what the fuck Malfoy was doing, he was stolen by the sharp heavy gaze Malfoy was pouring onto his face when he moved closer. The Auror held his breath as he glanced at Malfoy's mouth, his sharp chin tilting towards him, towards Harry's face. Warm puffs of air caressed Harry's lips and only then the focus was fully gone, and the haze set in as Harry stared, with lidded eyes, at Draco's lips when-

"Until next time, Potter."

Draco backed away and turned the corner leaving a panting Harry standing alone in the corridor, dazed and confused.

…Stupid Malfoy.

_'Why does he...act that way...? He's like a pendulum, the jumps from disposition to disposition. A big…stupid rich pendulum.' _Harry thought. Remembering he was in the middle of a corridor, Harry decided he should really head back to the office. The Auror felt the strong burn of a blush stick to his face when he turned around.

_'Stop blushing. Stop blushing. Stop fucking blushing.' _Harry paraded commands in his minds, willing himself to look perfectly fine when he faced Ron. When he reached his door, Harry shook his head and told himself to ignore the blonde, dismissing the blushing as simple exasperation from seeing Malfoy when he had been thinking about him. He turned the handle with a fresh mindset, ready to get his head down and work.

As Harry opened the door, he was greeted by a manically swearing Ronald.

The Auror was temporarily puzzled and did not react straight away when he saw the ordeal in front of him.

When Harry looked carefully to see what Ron was doing, he saw his friend jumping up and down on a rapidly growing blue sweet lace. Harry noticed the end had been nibble slightly as it grew bigger and squashed its way through the files and furniture. Harry shrieked when he noticed it was pushing its way out the door. The two grown men climbed onto their desks, screaming and casting every spell they knew at the monstrous treat.

Ron had failed to read the wrapper stating it was a 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' product, a gift from his brother, George.

A very annoyed Kingsley had to rescue them, preventing them from suffocating, whilst shouting "WEASLEY, MUST YOU EAT EVERYTHING WITHIN REACH?"

* * *

There was a long pause.

"I don't like this."

Another long pause.

"I said, I don't like this."

"You don't like anything, Harry." Ron suddenly stopped walking. Harry Potter copied him as he looked at his friend expectantly. Ron then added, "Yes actually, we do know who you like but let's not go down that road, 'ay mate?" Ron winked and carried on walking down the corridor followed by an irritated Harry, cursing loudly.

They stopped outside a shiny black door with an impressive gold plate that read _Head-of-Accounts._ "...I really do not like this."

Ron turned to look at his friend. "Harry, Kingsley said that whatever Malfoy will show you will apparently help. Just see what he wants and then go bugger off home, alright?"

"But that's the thing! I have no idea what he's going to _show _me!"

"...What would you _like_ him to show you?" Ron said waggling his eyebrows.

"Oh fuck off Ron." Harry said wincing and staring into space.

Ron looked at Harry oddly and then asked, "Are you scared of him?"

Harry huffed but made no reply.

"YOU ARE!" Ron said, booming with laughter.

"What's there to be scared of? Oh yes, I'm so scared of his big numbers and pointy chin of death." Harry muttered sarcastically.

There was a pause. "...He has a very pointy chin." Ron said, nodding.

"Yeah, I know."

After several more minutes of squabbling, Ron agreed to enter first to face the wrath of Malfoy's chin.

"Weasel, what do you want at this-...Harry...?" Draco finished when he noticed a wave of ebony hair behind Ron. Harry tilted his head at Draco, meaning hello but wishing he was anywhere else on the planet.

"I just came to drop off my bud so I can go home and only half wonder what the fuck you two are up to." Ron announced cheerfully. He clapped a distraught Harry on the back before practically running out of the room. Harry turned slowly towards Draco and nearly ran after Ron when he saw the way Malfoy was raking his eyes over him.

This was going to be a very uncomfortable evening.


	2. Radon level

Draco was stroking his neck with the back of his hand as he glanced to his side. He rolled his stormy eyes before muttering, "Potter, stop fidgeting. I feel like I should stun you and put you out of your misery."

The two men were standing side by side in a Ministry elevator late in the evening and were currently around four levels lower than was available to the public. Harry Potter twisted his hands nervously as he watched floors flash through the rectangular window, proving that they were indeed sinking lower into the ground. "We shouldn't be here." Harry stuttered, his conclusion absolute.

"Stop being so melodramatic. We work here and we are part of an Auror investigation. We can be wherever we want to be." Draco huffed, covering his amusement easily.

Harry huffed also. "Actually, _I'm _part of an Auror investigation. You, Malfoy, are an accountant."

The Accountant frowned as the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open.

Noticing the movement from the corner of his eye, Harry turned his to head to watch as the destination was revealed. The man narrowed his eyes and tried his best to convince himself that Draco had not stopped them at a floor filled with, what looked like, nothing but dark smoke. His first presumption was that Malfoy had brought him to a dark abyss to kidnap him however Draco's voice rudely interrupted his thoughts. "I'm sure you'll have an amazing time tracing illegal transactions across the globe like I have been all afternoon, Mr Auror, since I forgot that was _your _speciality." Draco stepped out into darkness and was now no where to be seen. The Auror cursed when he saw Malfoy had a point. Feeling slightly uncertain, Harry followed, knowing he had no choice.

"So where are we exactly?" Harry said, craning his neck trying to make something out of the murky cloud they had plunged into. He was following the sound of Draco's breathing, which was moving at a steady pace ahead of him. "Can I cast _Lumos_?"

"No you indiscreet fuckwit," Draco said emotionlessly, strolling blindly as if he knew the way by heart. "We are on the Radon Level, named after the Minister for Magic who made it. Very few wizards know about it."

Their footsteps echoed as they would if they were outdoors; sound waves seemed to hit no boundaries. After walking in the dark for several minutes, Draco suddenly stopped causing an unsuspecting Harry to collide into him (Malfoy had laughed and purred, "Steady on, Potter" much to Harry's dismay). Judging by faint swishing sounds of wood meeting air, Harry assumed the blonde had taken out his wand and was charming something out of the mist. Harry had to squint. The sight that appeared was the first bit of light he had been exposed to for quite a while.

A giant glowing golden box faded into view and stood proudly in the middle of nowhere. It was extremely vast since the far wall was at least 30 metres away. Draco and Harry walked into the vault together and admired the fine interior. Quite casually, Harry ran his fingers on one of the walls; it was a smooth as the edge of water. However, there was no doubting the fact it was-

"Empty." Harry said, clearly disappointed.

"Ha. What were expecting exactly, Potter? A flamboyant note telling you who the thief was?" Draco laughed.

Harry watched Draco quietly for a moment. "…You knew there was nothing here?" Harry asked, now irritated.

"…Kingsley may have mentioned it." Draco pondered aloud as he rolled up his white shirt sleeves.

Harry was not pleased.

"So…we came down here for _nothing_?" Harry shouted, jolting his head slightly as he spoke. Malfoy could not fight back the smirk that pushed itself onto his face. Harry's eyes narrowed at the expression; naturally, it fuelled his discontent. "As per usual, Malfoy, you've turned out to be a complete waste of time." Harry said, glaring at the blonde angrily. "I could be at home, doing something useful right now."

Harry stormed out of the vault and stood in the dark.

"Actually, Harriet, this was an extremely useful trip. We have confirmed the known." Harry turned on his heel to face Draco. The blonde-haired man could just about make him out from the enchanted gold radiance. The Auror was clearly aggravated; this did not stop Draco. "…which is always good to do." Draco finished, grinning unapologetically.

"I have a life I could be getting on with and don't use all my effort to annoy someone at work, Malfoy." Harry said, arms crossed.

Draco stood gaping before catching himself and storming out of the vault also, venom in his eyes. The golden door slammed shut behind him, making the entire luxurious chamber disappear with a sharp _pop_. Throwing precautions aside, Draco forced the air around Harry to swim in warm charmed light. "Shut up, Potter. I do also have a life, actually." Draco snapped, looking at Harry aggressively as he came into the hazy glow.

"Oh really?" Harry said, with mocking disbelief. "Then what were your plans for this evening?"

Draco's eyes scanned Harry's face. "I have a date." Draco said smugly.

Harry's eyes narrowed. A stabbing feeling in his forehead told him that this bothered him greatly but gave no explanation why. "With who?" Harry asked instantly, in a demanding tone.

"Michael. Michael Westwood." Draco said calmly.

"Where's he from?"

"Londonderry."

"What?"

"It's in Ireland, you imbecile."

The two men were only a mere two, maybe three feet apart as they squabbled over the meaningless. Their noise, shouting and breathing flowed through the Radon level and could be heard, unknown to them, to anyone travelling between any of the two floors above. Their focus was on each other as they stood like two fireflies fighting, capturing and recapturing each others attention in the mists of a forest at night. Harry's attempt to never get _too_ angry with Draco, in order to not humour him too much, had been swept away in darkness for now. Since the boundaries were down, Draco was going to enjoy it…by any means possible.

"How long have you known him?"

"Six months."

"Six months?"

"No _five_ months. I said six months, didn't i?"

"Well, Where did you meet?"

"…A-…On the underground."

There was a pause then a low chuckle. "Why, in holy fuck's name, were _you _in the London underground?" Harry asked, amused.

"I was on my way to a visit to my friend's niece. She had chicken pox." Draco replied without hesitating.

Harry leaned towards Malfoy's handsome face, feeling like he now had the upper hand. "Why didn't you _apparate_?"

"It was the day the Apparation system went down, which I'm sure you recall." Malfoy said proudly. Draco was smiling menacingly even though his mind was screaming at him, demanding to know why he had just told Harry all these things.

Harry opened his mouth to argue back but the two men heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. The cluttering taps flowed through the paranormal cloud that surrounded the men and was a sharp echo in their ears. Panicking only for a moment, Malfoy grabbed Harry's T-shirt and dragged him to where he knew there was a slot between two vaults. It was a tight squeeze but they managed to both slide in.

"Stop squirming, Harry." Draco whispered as he clasped the man's waist, pulling him out of view. Glowing wands were inspecting the area where Harry and Draco had been bickering, causing light to faintly edge around the two men, making them shine into view a tiny bit. Harry's attention was only on the intruding wizards briefly…before he realised Draco's chest was pressed against his back. The blonde's arm was still slid loosely around his waist. Harry let out a shaky breath as he stared at Draco's shirtless arm. He tried frantically to overlook how Draco's warm breath was caressing his neck. Harry could practically feel his own heart, it was thudding so loud. There was quiet resting everywhere as though the secretive black mist was listening to the two men pant. Goosebumps invaded every bit of exposed skin as Harry thought about their current predicament…Draco was _holding _him.

The curious wands moved away, causing the men to be engulfed back into complete darkness.

After a few silent moments, Draco nudged Harry out of the gap and dragged him by the arm through the sea of black air. When they reached the elevator and stepped in, neither broke the silence. Draco's shirt was creased. Both wizards were red in the face and breathing deeply, not once even glancing at the other.

Harry kept his eyes on the polished floors as the pair walked through the blue and golden Atrium. Draco walked in front of a fireplace made of blue bricks before turning to Harry. Dark reams of green drowned into Draco's grey clouds. Draco's open lips said nothing as the blonde man stared unashamedly at Harry's toned face. Draco's expression pleaded with the man, begging him to be the first to say something, anything. Harry swallowed. _'He's so gorgeous'_ the back of Harry's mind mused.

"Enjoy your sodding date." Harry said, his tone giving nothing away. He turned on the spot and apparated out of sight.

* * *

Harry stumbled onto his doorstep, slowly growing accustomed to now being outside rather than in the lit up Ministry of Magic. He fumbled for his keys and unlocked the front door.

_Stupid Malfoy. Stupid date._

He strolled blindly through his living room and felt his way towards the banister.

_Fucking telling me, like I give a toss._

Trying to remember how many steps his staircase had, Harry stomped towards the top hallway.

_Prancing around, acting like my shadow._

When Harry reached his bedroom, it was only then that he stopped walking. He stared at the sight in front of him, surprised by how much it displeased him.

Harry's bed was usually his favourite piece of furniture throughout the whole house. The frame was made of a rare dark wood only found in wizard dwelled suburbs in Africa. There was a thick throw in rich black draped over the mattress; it was the thickest cotton throw he could find in London. The duvet was cream and black. Over the last few years, Harry had indulged in dozens of cream and black cushions in every material and right now, they lay waiting for his embrace. But Harry just stared at his bed, unable to climb in.

It was black like Draco's suit.

It was cream like Draco's hair.

...It was even unique like Draco.

Ignoring how unreasonable his sudden dissatisfaction was and how, by doing this, Harry would have to question why he was so put out, so convinced he had to go out of his way to _act_ annoyed about what had happened on the Radon Level, Harry scrambled through his cupboard for a spare duvet so he could sleep downstairs.

He refused to sleep in a bed that reminded him of Draco Malfoy.


	3. Mrs Weasley's thoughts on the matter

The following morning was welcomed by streaming sunlight falling aimlessly from the sky. The early heat hinted to a beautiful prosperous day. Wizards and witches alike glided in and out of the ministry, minding their own business. Some were workers, some reporters, some inquirers, some foreigners and some were simply visiting.

Hermione was currently standing next to her husband's office chair, happily chatting to him; they had already argued twice so the fire for the morning was spent. They had argued about what to have for breakfast, as Hermione wanted at least two large bacon related meals before work due to her odd meat cravings, and whether the wizarding world could trust the Apparation system again after the mishap six months ago. Hermione was not due in the Department of Mysteries for another half an hour and knew Ron was too drained to squabble with her for a third time.

That morning, Ronald had had a meeting with Kingsley.

"Well basically he said, 'I think it's best if you let Potter and Malfoy handle this one,'" Ron explained to his wife. "Whatever he thinks is best, Herms, I'll go with."

"I can understand that." Hermione said, watching her husband sign a document, concern in her voice as she rested her hands on her ballooned stomach. "But it's when you have to tell Harry."

Ron looked up at his wife, considering what she said.

"It won't be pretty." Hermione finished.

"He'll probably shit dungbombs, Hermione…you know what he's like. He likes doing a case alone and hardly takes it well whenever he has to work with someone other than me…let alone Malfoy…" Ron said, leaning back in his chair.

"But I have to say, I think there's something more to this case…I mean, why get Malfoy involved?" Ron asked more to himself, glancing at the clock. It was only 7:16am. Harry was not due in until eight o' clock. "As for the Draco and Harry co-operation issue, I want to know when this stupid charade ends."

Knowing exactly what Ronald was referring to, Hermione nodded thinking about her unreasonable friend.

The pair went quiet as Ron continued writing. Hermione picked up a spare quill and ran the feather over her stomach, humming cheerfully. Ron smiled at his wife as he dipped his own writing utensil in an inkpot; he loved it when Hermione did that.

…The accountant could not have chosen a more peaceful time to come barging in. For a man who only worked with numbers, he sure was hostile.

Draco stormed into the office, not bothering to knock. The door slammed behind him as the fuming man looked at who was in the room. He was wearing a navy pin-stripe suit, a light blue shirt and an expensive honey coloured tie. In Draco's hand was a rumpled looking piece of parchment.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at the couple.

"He's not here, Malfoy." Ron said flatly.

Draco sneered at the red-head before sitting in the chair in front of Harry's desk…rather than the one in front of Ron's.

"I _know_ that, Weaselbee. I do not spend my life chasing Potter."

Ron smiled broadly as he thought otherwise. Both Ron and Hermione sensed that Draco sounded quite disheartened.

"And by the way, what is with the grand family meeting? There are _three_Weasleys in here! …Well, more like seven judging how huge you have become, Granger." Hermione rolled her eyes as Draco fought back a grin. "I feel like I might become ginger and unattractive also if I stay here too long, what with all of the famous Weasley fertility in the air." Draco continued, not really knowing why he was being rude, especially to Hermione.

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at Malfoy, swiftly growing irritated. "Save the novel, Draco. What do you want?"

Draco's voice softened at the sound of Hermione's agitation. He looked her straight in the face, sincerity in his words. "I have been looking for you all morning. It is rather annoying how you do not bother to stay in one place. Instead, you woddle around the whole Ministry, as though you are some lost pregnant flobberworm."

Hermione actually smiled. The blonde narrowed his eyes again before passing the note to Hermione.

"Saint Potter gave me the courtesy of owling me this straight to the Manor this morning."

Suddenly extremely alert and curious, Hermione held the corner of the parchment and pulled it out of the blonde's hand. She unfolded the crumpled note carefully, knowing Ron and Draco were watching her.

Harry's typical green scribble greeted her.

There was a short moment's silence as Hermione read the note. Ron carried on working as Draco fiddled with the photographs and stationary lying in disarray on Harry's desk. Both men jumped when Hermione burst out laughing as soon as she had finished reading, her large figure bouncing as she giggled.

**Harry's letter.**

'_Malfoy,_

_I'm sorry__about yesterday. It would like us to make a fresh start today as Kingsley has notified me about the changes in the case and I believe that the two of us will be working on it alone. Also, Kingsley has found a lead and will send me a memo regarding it this afternoon._

_I really think_

_I hope_

(The two above phrases had been thickly scribbled out.)

_You should consider thinking before you speak, Malfoy. Obviously, I couldn't give a pissing centaur's ass what you get up to but, one day, you might come across someone who does. Stop telling me about your personal life you annoying git._

_Regards,_

_Harry P._

Hermione looked up at Malfoy who was not amused.

"What…does THAT mean?" Draco yelped.

Ron snatched the letter from Hermione and briefly scanned it. As he read, Hermione glanced at Draco and said, "I think the fact it ends with 'Regards' is rather polite of Harry, don't you think?"

Draco rolled his eyes and said nothing back.

When Ron was done, he looked up at Draco and said, "_That,_ mate, means you said something last night to him that he wants to pretend he doesn't care about, so he felt the need to write to you, so _you'd_think he wasn't bothered." The red-head finished his point and looked very pleased with himself.

Draco stared at Ron, astounded that he was stupid enough to feel the need to point this out.

"No shit, Sherlock." Hermione muttered.

Not caring who Sherlock was, Ron added, "I only know that because he's done that to me millions of times."

Draco smacked his hand onto his forehead, deeply wishing he had not come. "Granger, are you aware that you married an idiot?"

Hermione chuckled and ignored Ron huff of disapproval at the comment.

"Oh well. Anyway Draco, I bet you're pleased with yourself." Draco titled his head out of his hands to look at Hermione as she spoke. "Whatever you said yesterday successfully ticked off Harry. Did you not tell me the day before last that it annoyed you that nothing you _said_bothered him, only the way you _act_?"

Draco tilted his head out of his hands to look at Hermione as she spoke.

'_Yes…that's true.'_He thought to himself dejectedly.

Something you must know by now is that Draco flirted with Harry **constantly**.

Obviously, there were no secrets surrounding this. Any wizard, witch, goblin, creature or piece of furniture which had eyes or ears in the Ministry could work out Draco had feelings for Harry. It was blinded or perhaps even steered by gratitude, awe and a feeling of owing him everything.

No one could deny Harry had saved Draco multiple times and how could Draco repay him in any better way, than to adore him and love him for all that he was?

_Everyone_ knew.

Apart from Harry of course…

Yet rather than keep quiet and blush like a little girl whenever Potter was in sight, Draco openly paraded around after Harry, always batting his blonde eyelashes or leaning too close, always past the edges of Harry's personal space. Most of the time, Harry looked uncomfortable or blushed substantially.

But that was not enough.

Potter could have just been acting this way because the idea of Draco being intimate with him made him extremely repulsed or unnerved.

Draco Malfoy was very much convinced that Harry Potter did not _like_like him at all.

And yet there was the flip side, which also happened to be the side that Hermione believed was more likely to be true, Harry was blushing because he liked Draco back.

"Perhaps _he_is playing the role of the pathetic little girl." Granger had once said.

All Draco needed was Harry to clearly say it…to clearly say that the idea of Draco being with someone else _bothered_ him.

'_And was this the evidence?' _Draco pondered, staring at Harry's scrawled letter.

Malfoy turned his head away from the note. The pregnant unspeakable smiled as she watched Draco stare absent-mindedly at Harry's chair.

She knew by now that Draco was far past a crush. He was dangerously infatuated with Harry and admired him far too much. Yet he was also convinced that Harry could never love him back.

"So here's the real question…" Hermione said quietly.

Draco looked up at Mrs Weasley again, knowing she was going to ask the one question he did not feel like answering.

"…What did I tell him?" Draco suggested, discomfort in his voice.

The Weasel duplets nodded robotically, clearly eager to know.

'_They're like two fucking feathers in a wand, these two.'_Draco thought. He glanced between the couple and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"I…urr…I kind of…" Draco sat up in the chair and swallowed. "I said I had a date."

Hermione rolled her eyes, extraordinarily pissed off that it was not actually very interesting at all. She also reluctantly understood what Draco's reasons behind this crude statement were.

Ron, who was slightly sluggish to catch on, did not understand.

"Why would you say that blatant lie?" Ron asked, glancing at his wife and the accountant. When Draco cut his eyes and huffed angrily, Ron nervously added, "No offence mate."

"To annoy Harry, Ron." Hermione said slowly, watching Draco stare at his lap. "And now Draco is confused because according to what your _amazing_revelation told us, judging by Harry's apology that is…well, it worked…as it _did_annoy Harry."

Hermione glanced at the letter, directly at the rough, rushed scribble.

"Quite a lot apparently." She mused aloud.

Draco looked into Granger's wise brown eyes, hating that she knew everything. He felt like glass around her; _too_easy to see through.

"And he doesn't understand why, after every failed attempt to annoy Harry about this sort of thing, it has worked now…"

She nastily added, grinning dryly, "I mean nothing's…_changed_between them…"

Draco felt a stab in his stomach at the comment; the truth hurt.

But Hermione had stopped talking, as an after thought fell upon her. The sudden silence caused Draco to watch her carefully, her thoughts and invasive understanding clear in her eyes.

'_Of course. He's wondering whether this means that Harry does have feelings for him after all. It's as clear as anything now, if you think about it.'_

Hermione gave Draco a look filled with both suspicion and glee; the look made Draco uncomfortable.

"Isn't that right?" Hermione asked, referring to their silent communication.

Draco knew he had to reluctantly nod in response.

He phrased his next sentence carefully, very aware that Ronald Weasley was still in the room, as insignificant as he may be. Still watching Hermione, he said, "What do I do next?"

"If you're wrong…" Draco continued, referring to Hermione's thought on Harry's feelings. "…You're very _very_wrong and everything will cease."

Hermione frowned at Draco's expression which was dabbed with hurt and reluctance. "But what if I'm right?" she asked.

"He's doesn't-" Draco started to mutter but he was interrupted.

"He does."

It was not Hermione who had spoken.

Draco watched Ron, slightly shocked at what he had said. Draco concluded momentarily that the Weasley had been polluted by Hermione's musing and persistence in the subject.

But Draco was forced to think otherwise when Ron simply shrugged and said, "Nothing's more obvious. Saying he does is like saying the ocean is wet; there's no need to point it out."

Hermione smiled fondly at her wonderful husband before quirking her eyebrows smugly at her friend.

Draco licked his lips, knowing that these two were stuck in their ways. There was no way he could clearly prove that Harry did not have feelings for him; only Draco had his doubts now.

"Do not tell him I came." Draco said quietly as he got up and tucked in his chair. "Kingsley also told me about me and Potter working on the case alone, Weasley. No hard feelings?" Draco said, looking patiently at Ronald.

The red-head nodded with a friendly smile, "Not at all. Kingsley has his reasons."

Not sure what to say, Malfoy awkwardly inclined his head to the couple, glanced again at Harry's empty chair and left the room.

Ron exhaled loudly and turned to his wife.

"What was the point of him coming in here to tell us all that?" Ron asked, suspecting Hermione knew the exact reason.

Hermione stroked her stomach and smiled as she spoke, "Well, he wanted to tell _me_ more than he wanted to _us._"

Ron leaned back in his chair as he continued listening.

"He'll never admit it, but…when it comes to him and Harry…he tells me everything."

There was a pause before Hermione also said, "The imbecile is convinced Harry doesn't fancy him."

Ron laughed and asked, "Why does Malfoy flirt with him all the time, then?"

Hermione moved to sit on the table as she spoke. "If you asked him, he'd invent some far-fetched, overly complicated, affectionate, misleading reason. But actually, he only does it because he can't help himself."

Ron smiled and pondered for a few seconds.

"Is he your…friend?" he asked. He was only curious. The idea of Hermione and Malfoy being friends did not bother him (only because his theory of Draco being a conniving womanizer was destroyed when Hermione pointed out several months ago that Draco stared at Harry, not the women that hovered around him constantly.)

Hermione's smiled widened. "Sort of," she said.

The unspeakable would not mention to Ron that her liking for Draco had increased as their friendship had grown over the last few months. Draco was an odd bloke, whose mask was too thick. He was clearly forceful and driven but he was also quite tentative. He was intelligent and warm-hearted. He had layers that hid him well but in actual fact, Draco Malfoy was simply a decent witty man with passion; Hermione liked his company and approved of him, just like her husband did.

"Listening to him is like watching a fucking play." Ronald suddenly said.

Hermione giggled, looking very amused. "He _is_ a bit of a drama queen."

Ron then laughed and said, "_He's_the drama queen? You should see Harry around him, Herms. Usually Harry's all professional and focused at work but when Malfoy's about…"

"…he forgets where he is." Hermione finished, looking at the door.

"We cannot interfere, Ron." She said rather seriously. "The two of them need to sort this out on there own. Two controlling, ignorant people like Draco and Harry? They need to sort it out on their own from the very beginning."

Ron was frowning.

"Otherwise there is no hope for them in the future." She said quietly. "Like you said Ron, I want to know when this worrying charade ends."


	4. Knock, Door bell and the sort of knock

Only when it was 10 o'clock did Ron panic; Harry still had not come to work. Had he not been so busy with his overwhelming stack of paperwork, Ron would have owled him long ago to see what the problem was. '_This isn't like Harry,' _Ron thought to himself as he moved from report to report. The red-head neared the end of his stack before he decided it would be best to notify Kingsley about Harry's absence, before contacting him directly.

Ron left the office and paced down the dull corridor until he reached an oak door with a gold plate stuck in the centre, engraved with two words; 'Head Auror.' Ron swiftly knocked.

When he heard Kingsley speak from the other side of the wood, Ron turned the handle and walked inside. Kingsley's office was just like Ron and Harry's but with three crucial differences; there was only one desk, no sweets and no mess. Ron inclined his head towards his boss and sat down when Kingsley gestured politely towards a chair.

"Sorry to interrupt sir but I'm worried about Harry," Ron said awkwardly.

The Head Auror put down his quill and post before tucking in his chair. "What seems to be the problem?" Kingsley asked, sounding far more interested than Ron expected.

Ron was rather taken aback, not used to Kingsley caring what he had to say. "…He hasn't come to work."

Kingsley did _not _look like he had expected that."Really? Then who's doing all _your _paperwork?" Kingsley asked, looking at Ronald with narrowed eyes.

_'Okay, that's not nice.'_

_"_Ummm, I am?" Ron announced.

Kingsley made a huge effort to look as equally as shocked by that too. "It sure is a morning for surprises then, Weasley." Kingsley said as he got out of his chair. Ron scowled when Kingsley had his back turned; he bit back the need to comment on the mild insult.

Kingsley was now looking out the window behind his desk. "Not turning up to work…not good not good…" He muttered to himself. He glanced over his shoulder and found Ron's attention was also stuck on the enchanted window. For some reason, there was a violent hurricane passing through the panes.

"Looks like Magical Maintenance want another pay rise, the cheeky bastards." Kingsley deliberated out loud.

Ron, as usual, did not respond. He hardly ever said anything to his boss; it was always Harry who did the talking. Kingsley made him slightly nervous, due to his powerful position in the Ministry and his sturdy character. Kingsley turned back to his desk and took out a Ministry black quill and a blank piece of parchment. As he began to write a short message, he continued talking.

"I'm going to send Malfoy to get him," he said.

It took every muscle in Ron's body not to burst out laughing.

"I was going to get them both to interrogate a suspect sometimes this aftern-…but I suppose it won't hurt for them to go now." Kingsley said. The head Auror tapped the parchment with his narrow wand, causing it to move and crease on its own accord. As soon as it resembled a paper aeroplane, it zoomed through the door, out of the office and out of sight.

Ron thought to himself as the head Auror sat down in his chair. He could not help himself; he had to ask again. "Sir?"

"Hmm?"

Ron tensed his eyebrows and asked, "Why Malfoy?"

The Head Auror watched Ron oddly, considering his question. _'Perhaps Weasley is not as unobservant as I thought.'_

Kingsley smiled a professional, stagnant smile. "Like I said this morning, Weasley; I have my reasons. Thank you for letting me know that Potter is absent. You are actually of use when you're not buzzing on sweets."

And with that bit of abuse still hanging in the air, Kingsley shooed Ronald out of his office.

* * *

At some stage in his life, Draco Malfoy knew he would reach a point when the situation between him and Harry would exceed beyond ridiculous.

When he was ringing Harry's doorbell at 10:31am for the first time in his entire life, to have a go at him for not coming to the Ministry, straight after an evening arguing about Draco's 'date' (which Draco _partly _hoped was not the reason for Harry's unexplained absence), before embarking together on an interrogation that Draco did not exactly want to be involved in…Draco knew he had reached that point.

"I'm acting like a fucking owl," Draco muttered to himself darkly as he pressed the doorbell for the second time.

On the third ring, the embarrassed blonde concluded that Harry must have fled the country for some reason. He turned and began to go down the garden steps when he heard a handle click. Relief and anger flooded through him when he heard the front door open. He may _have _to face Harry now…but at least the Auror was okay.

"Malfoy?" Potter's sleepy voice asked from behind.

Draco moved back round, intending to shout at Potter for not coming to work; his pre-planned opening sentence was along the lines of "Do you think it is funny to not come to work? Just because you killed the Dark Lord does not mean you are _superior _or anything." And Draco would have said just that, that is if his words had not been left hanging in his throat. Silence flooded through him since Potter was standing in his doorway in a pair of cotton grey tracksuits and his stupid glasses…and nothing else.

His feet and chest were completely bare.

Draco gawked at Harry's toned abs and arms; his stomach churned longingly and his thoughts pined. He cleared his throat and smiled at Harry briefly. Harry's expression had not changed. He was still blinking in Draco's direction through his thick round glasses as though he was still not sure if the blonde was actually there.

After a while, Harry took a step back so his exposed flesh was pressed against the cold doorframe, gesturing that Draco should come inside. The Accountant hesitated, glancing rapidly between the inside of the home, Harry's face and Harry's muscular naked abdomen. A short awkward moment later, Malfoy decided to go in, knowing there was not much else he could do; a sharp icy rush soared through his spine when his arm grazed Harry's flesh.

Harry locked the door behind him with a flick of his wand before he followed the accountant inside, watching the blonde in the pinstripe suit walk into his living room.

Draco stood in Harry's home with his hands in his pockets; _'Harry has taste,' _Draco thought to himself. The living room had a wonderfully high ceiling, perhaps tampered with a hint of magic. The walls had beautiful brickwork apart from the one painted red, stapled in the centre with a large window revealing a pleasant ornate garden. There was a regal fireplace which had logs and floo powder surrounding it. In the middle of the room sitting on a maroon rug, were two jet black leather sofas facing each other. All in all, it was very well decorated.

"Nice place, Potter." Draco said smirking, still admiring the expensive furniture and paintings.

Harry walked past Malfoy and headed towards one of the sofas. Draco changed the focal point of his gaze to Harry's back. It was so lean and tanned; Draco swallowed, feeling his throat dry up and his face heat with blood as his eyes trailed down the ridges of Harry's spine, ending just before the waistband.

Suddenly Draco found it difficult to breathe properly.

"You sound surprised," Harry said, still not giving anything away from the tone of his voice. He sounded so empty this morning. Draco went to sit on the sofa opposite him.

"Never took you for a man with taste," Draco replied croakily, chuckling.

The Auror said nothing as he picked up a steaming mug from the floor and had a long sip. In block black letters, the phrase 'Don't touch me, I'm hot.' was written on the light blue mug. Draco almost smirked.

When Harry put his mug back down, he spoke. "I got Kingsley's memo; he said he told you about some lead, right?" Harry asked.

Draco had been staring at Harry's bare chest again so it took him several moments to register what Harry had said. Harry's lips turned up slightly, shining amusement dancing in his green eyes as Draco stuttered, trying to think straight.

"Ummm, yes…it's ummm, Justin Labro's son, Mark…I think…" Draco pulled out a piece of parchment out of his suit jacket and handed it to Harry who obediently took it. "We believe he may now where Justin is. That's the address."

Draco paused and fidgeted slightly. "…Kingsley wants us to drive there."

He sounded nervous. At this, Harry looked up at Draco and grinned at him, looking extremely amused at the thought of Draco in something as muggle as a _car. _Draco felt his jaw unhinge and his face grow red again as he stared at Harry's beaming face; he always did whenever Harry smiled at him like that.

'_I wish he did that around more often.' _Draco mused soundlessly, looking at Harry's crinkling eyes.

"Kingsley doesn't want anyone in the office apparating anywhere on the job," Harry said, still smiling. "He doesn't trust it."

"I can understand." Draco said slowly, staring at Harry. It took Malfoy a while until he realised what he was doing. He then swiftly looked down, licked his bone dry lips and started stuttering once more. Harry grinned again and had another sip of coffee as he patiently waited for Draco to piece his brain back together…it could not have been entirely right that he enjoyed having this effect on Malfoy. "Also, it's, ummm, a Muggle residence so…"

"This is your worst nightmare, isn't it?" Harry chuckled, as he got up. Draco trailed his eyes over Harry, feeling uncontrollable electricity and excitement singe his senses.

He swallowed nervously and quietly said, "In some ways."

Harry clambered up the first few steps of his stairs before leaning over the banister, towards Malfoy. "I'll go change, okay?" he asked, _still_ grinning.

Draco nodded, surprised he could move his head at all. He knew a clothed Harry would be better for his brain than a half naked one.

With the Auror now gone, the blonde sat in the living room quietly, trying not to think about the fact Harry was changing upstairs.

"He doesn't fancy you, he doesn't fancy you, he doesn't fancy you." Draco chanted desperately under his breath, struggling to not think about Potter taking off his tracksuits. Out of nowhere, Draco's overactive imagination got the better of him and vivid images of a tanned naked Harry invaded his thoughts, menacing and persistent.

"Fuck!" Draco barked, running his hands through his hair, fidgeting stupidly.

…It was when Draco stood up that he heard the thunderous banging.

Draco whipped out his wand and scanned the room, moving slowly, looking the source of the sound. The fireplace was filled with ash and nothing more. The costly paintings had snoozing characters in them, not really making any other noise other than a gentle snore. He could have swore he heard a-

BANG BANG BANG.

There it was again!

Looking at a door which lead out of the living room, Draco concluded it must be coming from what he presumed was the kitchen. Acting more courageous than he felt, Draco edged through the beautiful living room. With his wand at the ready and double taking slightly as he walked, Draco glided towards the other door, turned the handle slowly and jumped inside.

The kitchen was modern and varnished in every corner. The granite worktop was superb and engraved by goblins, judging by the perfect finish.

"That man has too much money," Draco muttered, scanning the exquisite cabinets and work tops. Other than the cutlery, pots, pans and spices stacked on a shelf, the kitchen was basically empty. Draco stepped in further listening carefully, waiting for any sudden movem-

BANG BANG BANG!

"Salazar, who the fuck is that?" Draco thought, shaking slightly. It was too late to call Potter. Draco edged towards the corner of the room where he thought he had heard the loud noise, wondering if the intruder was invisible.

"Who-who's there?" Draco stammered, fear clear in his wide eyes and shaky voice.

The entire kitchen was silent apart from a distant hummm. Draco felt a freezing bead of sweat roll down the side of his temple as he held his wand tightly in his trembling palm…

The blonde nearly jumped out of skin when he heard Harry enter the room.

"Draco, why are you talking to my washing machine?" Harry asked, looking quite concerned as he buttoned his shirt.

* * *

It only took several minutes for Draco and Harry to start arguing after they stepped into the ebony haired man's black BMW X5. The baking heat that had greeted the pair, rolling off the cooked seats, seemed to return with a vengeance as the two grown men shouted at each other.

"Seriously, Potter, you drive _so_ slowly that I can feel myself ageing," Draco spat nastily, with his arms folded.

Harry huffed, not taking his green eyes off the road. "For the last time, I'm not letting you drive."

"Fucking hell, WHY NOT?" Draco boomed, wanting to bang his fist childishly on the dashboard.

"Because, _Draco, _you. Can't. Drive. Full stop. End of story." Harry said coldly, as he turned a corner.

"What makes you think that?" Draco asked.

When Harry ignored him, Draco continued rambling. "I have you know I've driven MANY-" An irritated Harry sharply turned his head to look at Draco, clearly unconvinced. Draco blinked. "…Fine…ONE car in my, umm, life. But it went very well."

Harry took deep breaths, telling himself to not get too aggravated.

"In fact, I only crashed it twice." Draco said smugly.

"Oh fan-bloody-fucking-tastic. Here, just _take _the damn wheel now. Shove it down your trousers, I don't care. I'll just slide past you and let _you_ take control." Harry shouted sarcastically.

Draco smirked as he leaned towards Harry's shoulder, lunging his eyes towards the flicks on the tips of Harry's hair. The blonde man was darkly satisfied when he saw Harry stiffen when he could feel Draco's breath on his left ear. Hands gripped the front wheel extremely tightly when a tentative had slid onto Harry's thigh.

"I'd quite like that," Draco whispered smolderingly; the smirk had vanished. Warm breath and the skating feeling of flesh on flesh caressed Harry's ear.

Dropping out of nowhere, lewd images of Harry sliding onto Draco's lap in the X5 polluted Harry's every thought. The Auror lost the will to focus on driving as he halted to a sudden stop in the middle of a road, the images burnt into his memory forever. Harry shifted in his seat and angled himself to look directly at Draco, who was recovering from being hurtled forwards but still managed to plaster a huge grin on his gorgeous porcelain face…which was still inches away from Harry. Both men were panting from the impact, watching the other as they moved raggedly.

It was infuriating how pleased the accountant looked with himself.

"Stop fucking about." Harry said coldly, glaring into Draco's grey eyes, so close he could see his spectacles shimmer in Draco's pupils. "We need to get to this guy with my car in one piece."

Harry pulled his head away and sped off. It took a great deal of effort not to jinx the car seat into swallowing Draco when he heard him retort quietly.

"We'd get there in this millennium if _I _was driving."

Draco crossed his arms and said nothing me on the subject, regretting slightly that he did not mention the first thing that had popped into his dirty little mind when Harry had said, "We need to get to this guy with my car in one piece."

* * *

The man Kingsley had told Harry and Draco to visit lived on 37 Rickway Crescent, around a forty minute drive from Harry's home. He lived in a small house with only one tiny window on the bottom floor and two even smaller ones on the top. The roof-work looked patchy and the front bricks were all different colors. Even more to Draco's dismay, the front garden was a complete eyesore. The grass was long and dry and empty bottles of strongbow, whiskey and vodka lay abandoned and askew. A boot sat in the middle, clearly lost. The smell of urine and ash hit the men as they walked up to the front door side by side.

"He's a pisshead, Potter." Draco said, hoping Harry got the picture so they could leave. "And his house will smell an awful lot like fags judging by all the cigarette buds behind that bush which, by the way, looks like it has been cut in the shape of a dick-"

"Malfoy, we hardly have a choice." Harry said as he fished out his wand from his jean's back pocket. "Besides, I thought you smoked more than a floo network."

"…I used to, yes." Draco said hastily as he grew impatient, wondering why Harry had not knocked. Aimless, friendly small-talk between himself and Harry did not feel right.

"Why did you stop?" Harry asked curiously, wanting Draco to expand.

Draco sighed as he glanced suspiciously at the neighboring homes. "I got too gaunt, Harry, and I did not like it." Draco blushed at his words, feeling ridiculous.

"…I thought you looked good." Harry muttered, turning to inspect the window to see if anyone was in. The inspecting Auror was unaware that Draco had heard him and was now beaming with delight. He blushed and pulled himself together. By the time Harry had returned to the front door,, Draco had his smug self back in check. His performance was like art.

"Right, here we go." Harry said, bracing himself. Draco raised an eyebrow, amused at Potter's behavior.

Instead of knocking with his hand, Harry raised his wand and muttered _'Preshen.' _It caused a heavy knock to echo through the door.

Draco looked between the door and Potter.

"That was odd."

"What was?" Harry replied.

"You…you using some French spell to knock on the door." Draco replied, still looking quite puzzled.

"I didn't know it was French." Harry mused, looking away from Draco to focus on the door as he repeated the spell. "It's a precaution. There's some dodgy shit out there."

"…It's a door."

"YES I KNOW THAT, I'M NOT STUPID. But so?" Harry said, softly bordering on agitated. The Auror tried to think of an example.

After a short frame of silence, Harry's brain clicked. "There are some demon books out there."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Monster book of monsters, infectious guide to magical infections."

"Yes yes yes," Draco said, waving his hand dismissively as Harry huffed. "But those are _books. _This is just a _door._"

The Auror used his absurd spell to knock on the door again, looking very impatient.

"Even still, you shouldn't take any chances." Harry said, sounding wise and all-knowing. "I don't want the door to attack us-"

"-this is ridiculous-"

"-like books can." Harry said in a slightly raised voice.

Harry practically shouted the spell before not caring and banging his fist angrily on the door, making it rattle in it's frame, much to Draco amusement. When he was done beating the door, Draco chimed, "You know there's a sexual book about sex?"

Harry sighed. "If it's written by wizards, I don't want to know what it does-"

"Well, it is and you do," Draco said, grinning stupidly, clearly enjoying interrupting Harry constantly today. "Basically, and quite frankly, the book tries to hump you or suck you off."

Draco stopped to watch Potter's reaction.

Harry blinked. "…The book _sucks you off?_"

"Yes." Draco said, as though this was not an strange thing at all. He grinned devilishly before adding, "Imagine the paper cuts."

"You're a sick fuck, Draco." Harry pointed out, smiling with amusement as he knocked again.

"It's endearing." Draco said.

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

Quite unexpectedly, judging by how long Harry spent knocking, the door opened. Harry and Draco gasped simultaneously at the smell.


	5. Mark Labro

The last thing the men had been expecting was a shabby teenager to answer the door. Harry had thought that an old man like Labro would have a thirty-year-old son at the very least.

A waft of marijuana, alcohol, cigarettes, damp carpet and pepperoni slammed Harry in the face as he inclined his head uneasily at the young man swaying at the front door. He was short with brown hair cut jaggedly at his shoulders and could not have been more than seventeen-years-old. Shabby clothes clung to his thin body and he had a cigarette in his mouth. He did not look like he had showered recently or seen much sunlight for several weeks.

…Draco was definitely not prepared to step into _this _boy's home.

"Hello, you must be Mark." Harry said pleasantly before holding his breath to avoid smelling the horrible odour trying to hit his nose.

"Yeah! I did'n' order two strappin' blokes to go!" The boy chortled and took the fag out of his mouth.

"You are?" he said, signalling to Harry with his occupied hand.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, gesturing to himself. He nodded towards the accountant and added, "This is Draco Malfoy. He's my… my…"

Draco rolled his eyes and said, "I'm his my."

"Oh I see," Mark said, nodding appreciatively. "Well come inside, gen'lemen, the sun's not gettin' any brigh'er!"

Draco looked at Harry, annoyed at the situation. Harry followed the teenager inside and disappeared around a corner, not saying anything to the anxious accountant.

Draco sighed and followed Potter.

The hallway resembled and smelt like the inside of an old bin. Clothes, magazines, food and litter slept everywhere on a bed of thick dust. Judging by what he could see through various doorframes and on the upstairs landing, Draco knew every room was in a similar state. When something moved under an extra large value pack of Doritos on the floor, Draco screeched and jumped backwards into a wall. The vibrations caused dust to rise theatrically into the air as a box fell off a shelf above Draco; its contents, light blue powder, fell onto his head, causing the blonde to shout even more in anguish.

"Draco, are you done making noi-… What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Harry asked manically as he ran out of the living room to inspect the blue powder in Draco's hair.

"If my hair turns blue, I'm hexing that little boy." Draco muttered darkly.

As Harry ran his hand through Draco's hair to get rid of the powder, he chortled. "You'd look like Marge Simpson." The blonde felt a strong burn creep into his cheeks as he felt Harry move his fingers through this hair.

"Who?" Draco asked angrily.

"Not wantin' to interrup' the tender momen' fellas but why has Tocco got my _Head Rush Powder _on his head?"

"DID HE JUST CALL ME TOCCO?" Draco boomed, lunging towards the boy who flinched before Harry dragged the blonde back.

"What do you mean _Head Rush Powder_? Where do you get this shit?" Harry asked, his hands once again brushing Draco's locks.

"Easy. That wizard-folk joke shop!"

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." Harry and Draco mumbled in unison.

"Just put him in a chair, make sure he don' get up and he'll be fine in abou' half and hour." The teenager said with an annoying grin, before returning to the living room.

"Prick." Harry whispered. Harry paused before watching Draco. Standing looking rather feeble and cross, Draco quirked his head towards Harry, watching his expressions suspiciously. Harry then made up his mind. ...The last thing that Draco ever expected ever to happen _ever_ under any circumstance then occurred; Harry lifted Draco into his arms. Not bothering to ask for permission, Harry carried a shocked, flustered and protesting Draco into the living room. He dumped him onto a moth eaten pink sofa sitting in the middle of a floor plastered with rubbish.

Harry then held Draco's shoulders, almost protectively.

"I know you hate doing what you're told, but can you please just sit here while I talk to this kid?" Harry asked tenderly.

Draco scowled, still blushing furiously from being carried in Harry's embrace against hard warm flesh practically pushing past Harry's T-shirt. He eventually nodded…stiffly.

Harry smiled, satisfied, before heading to the other side of the tiny room, crunching his way through forgotten takeaways and fags, leaving Draco to miss his company instantly. As he sat in a stained arm chair opposite Mark, Harry had to ask, "Why is your house such a tip?"

Mark grinned. "I hardly stay here mate. More of an ea', sleep and go situation. You caught me here on a _very _lazy day, love."

Harry looked around the room, felt very sorry for Draco in particular but decided to get going with the serious questions. "Okay Mark, I have a few things to ask you, about your father. Will you co-operate?" Harry asked, watching Mark's reactions carefully.

The teen looked perfectly on board. "Sure I can. Bu' I warn you, I'm not a huge fan of my dad-oh-wah. He's nothin' more to me than a rich wanker."

Harry titled his head and allowed the boy to continue.

"He's so damn lovely to everyone else bu' me? He gives me, wha', a grand a week bu' says not a word to me."

Mark's lips quivered slightly before he muttered under his breath; something along the lines of 'Ashamed of me.' The teenager paused with his head bowed.

Harry assumed he was regaining his thoughts. But suddenly, Mark asked, "You wanna Chinese?" He was smiling stupendously once more.

"…What?" Harry asked, assuming he had not heard his right.

Draco rolled his eyes. "He said, do you want Chinese food, you dumb arsehole. You know, from china?" Malfoy shouted across the room.

Harry leaned over his sofa and turned to look at Draco, who winked at him. Harry pointed at the blonde. "You shut up, and 'rest' so that fucking powder will get out of your system."

Draco just scoffed in Potter's direction but said nothing in return. Harry turned back round to Mark, ready to continue their conversation but was astonished to see the young man sucking from an authentic shisha pipe, filled with what look like bight purple grass. His eyes were drooping as he breathed in, making his face go slightly pink.

"…Are you alright, Mark?" Harry asked slowly, eyes wide with concern since he was not entirely sure how to handle this weird boy. Draco too was watching him with a bewildered expression.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Mark replied sensuously, breathing out purple smoke. He looked at Harry with a dazed expression, his pupils clearly glazed over and dilated.

'_This is stupid.' _Harry thought.

"Are you stoned? Seriously, are. You. Stoned?" Harry inquired, rapidly becoming irritated.

"Stoned?" Both Mark and Harry turned to look at Draco after he had spoken. He looked confused. "Isn't that when muggles use rocks to punish each other?" he asked.

Harry blinked. Mark looked between the two wizards, intrigued by the question.

"Yes, Malfoy, that's exactly what I meant." Harry said sarcastically, leaning back in his chair, sighing.

"No I am not, mate," Mark's hazy voice said. Harry glanced at the young man, holding back a persistent urge to hex him and shut him up. His slurry loud voice was extremely irritating, Harry mused as he glared at the boy. "If I was, I'd be floa'in'. You wouldn' be able to get a word outta me." His arms were waving madly as he spoke.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"I'd be talkin' abou' shaggin' ducks," Mark continued, leaning towards the Auror. "Yanno mate, I got a friend, yeah, Rico, sells hotdogs. He has anatideaphobia. NOT JOKING."

Mark moved forwards even more, sincerity in his eyes. "I wouldn' lie to you, mate."

Harry exhaled and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

"Please just tell me this," the Auror said quite calmly. "Have you heard from your father, _recently_?" He stopped and prayed for a straight answer so that Draco and him could leave this horrid smelling house.

"Now, THIS, is where the story gets spicy, mate. The climax, if you will. Bu' no dirty stuff, nothin' like tha'."

Running his hands through his untidy hair, Harry thought about the fact he had met serial killers more reasonable than this.

"He came down."

Harry (and Draco) looked up. This sounded promising.

"Abou' a week ago, to'ally out of the green," The teenager continued as he picked up a bottle of whisky and had a quick swig. "And by tha', I mean tha' rare green Porsche of his. Looked more out of place in this area than Elvis in a church."

Harry smiled. _'Bingo. Humour the rat.'_

"You seem to have a big connection with the muggle world." Harry pointed out, trying to dig deeper.

"Hmmm," Mark said. "Magic, in general. Magic of…love…sex…music…pot…_all_ magic…it's beautiful! And me? I practically worship alo' of types of magic. It's a shame really tha' I wasn' blessed with the power to control the force, yanno. I was a Jedi with no ligh' saber." Malfoy blinked, assuming the boy was talking rubbish. Harry opened his mouth to cut in but Mark carried on. "A squib you call 'em?"

In the distance, a phone started ringing. Mark ignored that too. "Well, I'll say this; I'm the best of both worlds, muggle and squib. The best squiggle ever."

Mark stopped talking briefly as he thought to himself. "My magic's soul deep, mate. After alo' of experimen'in', yanno, a bi' of this and tha'…I found it and set it free!"

Mark reached upwards and stared at the ceiling, arms outstretched. And with that, his speech was very much over.

Harry stared at the heavily influenced young man, quite astonished by the abnormal behaviour. He chose to over look the soft chuckling coming from Draco because at this point, worryingly, Mark Labro has started to sway his arms like a palm tree. Trying to stay professional despite the fact this boy was clearly insane, Harry asked, "So what did your dad want?"

Mark dropped his arms and had another sip of his whiskey before he began speaking. "He came askin'…for…uh…" He paused as he watched something in the distance. Harry watched the dead-locked expression on the boys face. "Mate, don' wanna alarm you or anythin' but your homo is erectus." Mark gestured his frail hand to an ordeal occurring behind Harry's head.

Harry rapidly looked behind him and saw Draco had got up and was walking over to a phone sitting on a cereal box. The blonde was inspecting it cautiously as it rung. As Harry jumped out of his seat, Mark cheerily said, "I like him. My pet monkey used to do tha' when it rung."

"_DRACO, will you sit the fuck down?" _Harry hissed as he dragged the stubborn man back to the pink sofa. "Your head is full of Head-fucked-Powder!"

Malfoy tilted his head and glared at Harry. "I feel fine, Potty." With a dismissive shake of the head, Draco continued. "Anyway, what is that loud contraption?" Draco demanded to know, pointing at the phone angrily.

"I'll explain later. Just SIT DOWN." Harry said, trying to hold down Draco's shoulders, feigning a sense of control. He was very aware of the fact Mark was watching them both.

"I do not enjoy taking orders, Potter." Draco snapped, looking in a random direction with crossed arms.

"I'm aware," Harry said, chortling slightly.

"I'm nota house elf."

"I'm aware of _that_ too."

With a quick blank glance from Draco, Harry returned to his seat in front of the shabby Mark.

There was a moment's silence.

"…You seem to have an awful lo' of affection for your Quayko-"

"-Draco." Harry corrected in a bored voice.

"-Draco. Bu' seriously, where did you find him? _Queensbridge? _He's camp as anythin'"

Mark turned to look at Draco as Harry rolled his eyes, finding this slightly amusing now.

"N'aaw, bless him. Scared of the phone."

Harry let out a huff of amusement, astonished that anyone in their right mind would speak of Draco like that. Before he knew it however, Mark was shouting, "I GOT A SPARE PHONE UPSTAIRS, SWEE'HEART. D'YA WAN' IT?" The young man beamed gloriously at Malfoy.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Tell him to stop talking, Harry." he said through gritted teeth.

"Right, I've had enough of this." Harry said as he got out of his seat. "Not worth it." The Auror inclined his head at Mark before adding, "Good Day, Mr. Labro."

"IT FUCKING WELL ISN'T A GOOD DAY _NOW_." Draco boomed from his sofa.

Mark seemed very much unaffected by the comment. "Leaving so soon?" he asked sadly, following Harry's suit by standing also. "G'bye my lovelies. Pop again for tea and spliff if ya like!"

Harry smiled stiffly at Mark; he was conscious of the fact Draco had fished out his wand whilst watching Mark with loathing in his eyes. Mark just grinned foolishly.

Stepping carefully through the litter, Harry walked over to Draco. He pushed the accountant back into the seat when Draco tried to get up, remembering Draco still had an odd substance of some sort shifting through his system, apparently.

"So bloody jumpy, Draco." Harry said, smiling.

With a stroke of ingenious, Harry lifted the whole sofa easily with two arms, as though he had _charmed _it to weigh nothing. A very shocked Mark Labro watched and then ran after Harry as he carried the sofa, containing a bemused Draco, into the hallway. "Where you takin' tha'?" Mark shouted thickly at Harry, who kicked open the front door.

The fresh air and bright sunlight was a wonderful solace as Harry opened a car door and tipped the astounding Malfoy into the passenger seat. The blonde landed in the seat with a muffled _thump._

Harry then dropped the sofa in the front garden, nodded again at Mark, got in the car and drove off as quickly as possible.

**Note to readers:**

Mark is based on a strange arsehole I met in a subway a few months back. I both hated him and loved him.

_Please review._ This, after all, is my second favourite chapter of the whole story ^^


	6. The Holly Leaf Cafe

Once he was a safe distance away from Mark Labro's home, Harry breathed easily, extremely glad to be in the car, zooming very much in the opposite direction from the house. "He was, _the _most _annoying_ son of bitch I have ever met," The Auror huffed as he drove through the sunny afternoon.

Draco craned his neck to look at the handsome driver from the passenger seat. "Don't tell me he's stolen my title, Potter." The man purred.

Harry smiled as he reached a red-light.

"It can't be legal for him to be living like that." Harry mused out loud, flashing his eyes straight to Malfoy, expecting him to comment. When Draco said nothing, Harry continued, "Should we report his condition to the ministry?"

Draco nudged Harry when the lights turned green and thought to himself. "Like Mr Labro said, he's a squiggle." Draco said reasonably. Harry grinned again. "The muggles can sort out scum like him."

Harry changed gear, still smiling.

"All that crap he's consuming? _All _muggle made," Draco pointed out.

Harry chuckled, wondering when his jaw had started to ache from beaming so much. Draco shot his eyes at the driver at the quiet noise but said nothing. Leaning back in his chair, Malfoy sighed and used a small spell to blow some cold air into his face.

"_So hot_." He muttered angrily.

Harry grinned wider. "Want to know a secret?"

Draco turned to watch Harry drive. "Go on then," he said slowly, smirking.

"All this unexplained heat this summer…" Harry paused for effect. "…It's the muggle's fault."

"WHAT?" Draco boomed, roaring with laughter, wondering how that could be possible.

The car filled with strong unnatural heat and Draco's amusement, thriving through the air and making Harry pull his mouth into a relaxed, gentle smile with very little effort. "It's called global warming," Harry said, turning around a corner. He was about to explain to the blonde what global warming was. That was before he heard what Draco had concluded.

"Is that some stupid project they're working on? To make an all-year-round-summer?" Draco asked, smiling as he jabbed the A.C with his wand, making no effect whatsoever. "Because someone should tell them it's a bad idea."

Harry grinned yet again, for what must have been the millionth time that day. Draco's banter and charm were clouding his judgement and despite what you may argue, I'm afraid to say that Harry was not _currently_ thinking rationally. The Auror smiled with a different edge; affection. He turned his head and directed it at Draco only momentarily; the blonde's head was turned, looking out of the window.

Harry Potter then caught himself and looked away as he re-focused his attention on the road.

'_This is a dangerous situation you're getting yourself into,'_an honest voice in Harry's mind stated. _'Remember, __**that**__…is a no-go.'_

Harry tensed his shoulders as he drove silently.

* * *

The two handsome men reached the Ministry of Magic around half an hour before lunch. After a brief quarrel, they decided to head to the Ministry café together for a quick bite to eat.

Prancing through the shining wooden floored hall, the pair's footsteps were hardly noticeable amongst the throng moving ever impatiently towards and away from fireplaces. Not that either of them noticed but a small golden stag and ferret symbol on the ceiling started chasing each other when they walked in; it was too embedded with the other shifting gold symbols to be noticed. The sprinkling sound of water floated through the Atrium along side the noise of witches and wizards speaking.

Harry and Draco were arguing when they passed their mutual friend.

"Potty, if you put a small amount of my hair gel in after a shower, spell it dry and put in some mousse- oh hello extremely bloated version of Granger." Draco stopped talking to smile softly in Hermione's direction who was stumbling through the grand entrance holding a small stack of files. She smiled at Draco, used to his silly pregnancy jokes, who then continued rambling to the Auror. Hermione focused her attention instead on Harry as they walked past her, raising her eyebrows; Harry was grinning shyly back over his shoulder before turning back to Draco.

As the duo continued walking, Hermione looked over her shoulder and wondered where the situation between them now stood. She giggled when she heard Harry flatly say, "Draco, I'm _not_ putting anything called 'Mr. Nargle's hair and magical creature fur defrizzinator sap' on my scalp."

* * *

In the elevator, cramped together with around fifteen other people in the tiny space, Harry spoke out sounding very concerned.

"Does that Department always make Hermione carry stuff 'round?"

Draco tried to elbow a goblin for standing on his foot and ended up stumbling into two other people instead. "She was hardly carrying much, Potter. About as much as your brain capacity therefore, nothing to worry about."

Harry decided to ignore Malfoy after that comment.

"Besides, Potter, women do not go into labour when they carry too much _stuff_."

Harry turned to Draco, looking past the various other wizards and witches in the small space.

"Imbecile." Draco said to Harry gently, smiling at him.

"I know that." Harry said.

"What, that you're an imbecile?"

"No not that. About the birth thing you said. I'm just worried she'll hurt herself."

"Indeed."

Harry looked away from Draco and grabbed the edge of the elevator just before it lurched backwards. "I wonder what the D.O.M make her do…" Harry said.

"I don't," Draco scowled.

Harry was genuinely interested in his cold tone. "Why's that?" he asked as more people tottered into the elevator.

"That department gives me the creeps." Draco said, grimly. Harry smirked slightly.

"Especially Boris Rowntrot," Draco added. To his utter amusement, several **witches** in the elevator muttered in agreement.

Harry smiled as he tried to shove his way out. "You've never even been on that level before," he said.

"Yes and I intend it to stay that way…after the way Rown-twat stared at me at last year's Christmas Party." Draco said as he followed Harry out of the overfilled elevator.

* * *

"It's very quaint, the café, don't you think?" Draco said, analyzing the Holly Leaf. Harry was paying for their lunch so did not immediately reply. "It reminds me of _you, _Harry."

"Why does everything remind you of me_, Harry?"_ Potter replied, mocking the way Draco sexily breathed his name.

Draco chuckled. "I don't actually know. Anything very red or very green reminds me of you."

The waitress was still gathering the men's orders behind the counter so the two stood at the side, waiting.

"Green?" Harry pondered aloud, confused.

Draco smirked mischievously, as he slid his left arm past Harry to grab a complimentary biscuit. In the process, Draco took a large step forward, causing his chest to press abruptly against Harry's. Malfoy could _feel_ Harry's deep animated breathing. He was so close to the man, the tip of his sharp nose skated on Harry's cheek and the rims of his glasses. Harry did nothing to move out of the intense proximity when Draco has reached Harry's eye level, having moved his face away from the biscuit plate; he spoke so quietly, it was almost a whisper.

"…Your _eyes, _Harry."

Draco slid out of their gaze and walked with his filled plate to find a vacant table, as though nothing had just happened.

Harry stood magnetised to the spot, willing away the spiralling rush in his stomach before walking hastily towards the coffee machines with his own plate. He pressed the cappuccino button on one machine, freeing steaming brown froth which appeared out of nowhere within the glass dome.

As the dome filled, Harry felt his palms shake slightly. _'Let's just over look the way you're acting, Harry, and try to be normal around him for once,' _he thought.

He picked up the handle when the purring sound of magic had faded away and poured the contents into the cup that the waitress had provided. Harry grabbed up his cup and scanned the café, searching for the fetching Draco. Striking blonde hair floated near the windows at the back; Draco had taken a seat at one of the typical small round tables. Harry shook his head slightly and told himself to at least try and keep it professional when he joined the accountant.

As Potter sat down, Malfoy smirked at him and helped himself to a sip of Harry's coffee; he preferred it when it was piping hot. "So, Potter," Draco said, still smirking. "Did Labro say anything to us of actual use?"

Harry snatched his cup back and answered in a frank tone. "He hardly spoke like someone who was sane, so I highly doubt it."

"Well," Draco said, as he began to eat. "We just have to recall the conversation. There has to be something."

Harry started to eat his meal also.

Draco smiled. "He was awfully warm towards me, don't you think?" Draco said playfully. Harry did not even look up. "I cannot exactly blame him for being attracted to me…but then again…he was so out of his face, we could have brought in a flobber warm and he would have wanted to have it off with it."

Harry grinned briefly before a voice told him to focus. "There _was_ something that he mentioned that I keep coming back to."

"Do tell." Draco said as he stole Harry's cup again and took a long sip. He chuckled when he noticed Harry's irritated frown form.

"…Basically, he mentioned Labro has a rare green Porsche."

Draco winked and smoulderingly said, "Green?" The tone of his voice made Harry feel slightly uncomfortable.

'_Focus_.'

"I'm sure you mentioned something about some limited edition enchanted emerald Porsche to me once, made in…in…"

"In Lockswood?" Draco interrupted, momentarily drawing away from Harry's coffee. Lockswood was a magical industrial area on the outskirts of Liverpool.

"That's the one." Harry said, grinning and finishing the last of his lunch. "I say we go there and…"

Harry was watching the blonde carefully and found, to his deep amusement, that Draco was daydreaming…whilst staring at Harry.

"Malfoy?"

No reaction.

"…_Malfoy_?"

Still no reaction

"MALFOY."

Malfoy eyes blurred back into vision, focusing in on Harry's voice rather than his face. "Hmm?" He managed to muster out of his blushing face and startled disposition, having been caught out.

"…I was just saying we should see if Labro owns the car and then see where he's been in it when he came up to Britain. A powerful car like that is hardly untraceable." Harry said, with a toothy grin.

Draco returned the smile before knocking the cup back, drinking up the very last sip.

"You've drank it all, haven't you?" Harry asked quite darkly, his smile fading.

"You bet, Potter." Draco said as he finished his meal. "Let's go then." Draco dropped his cutlery and stood abruptly, causing his chair to scrape against the newly polished floor. Harry hurriedly yanked on his jacket, not able to stop the accountant from zooming out of the café since he did not bother to do something as polite as _wait._

Draco smiled as Harry ran to keep up with him, not reasoning with the fact he was overjoyed that he was able to spend the rest of the afternoon with Potter.


	7. The argument that led to disaster

"I knew it," a beaming Harry Potter said. "I knew it would be that green Porsche. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!"

Harry and the dashing Draco were back in the car once again, travelling down the motorway as quick as a blur in the dark of the night. The two had come back from the secluded main office responsible for the manufacturing of the limited edition Green-Porsche Charm Z50, released around three years after making only thirty models. One of those cars was worth more than half of Draco's entire estate.

The pair had agreed to travel back to the ministry so that Draco could floo home; he did _not_ like apparating.

"Brilliant," Harry continued, smiling over their triumph of discovering Labro did in fact own one of these beautiful cars.

Not that he would tell Draco but he had been beginning to panic since he had felt like the case was going nowhere. Harry Potter was over twenty-four hours into the high profile investigation and the two of them had found out nothing significant. Harry had spent the entire night researching and checking all airports and international floo security checks, causing him to oversleep this morning and completely forget he was promptly needed at work. The Auror had gone through every muggle and wizarding hotel's registration in the whole of London and West Midlands, where it was believed Labro had distant relatives. The French minister had definitely not checked into any local accommodations. Draco had found no unsual bank transactions between Gringotts or Banque D'ensorcellement, the only wizarding bank in Paris.

The news about the Labro owning and still using the car was the only piece of information they had on Labro's domestic life that they possibly could use. "It'll be easy to track him down now, Malfoy." It was an optimistic thing for Harry to say, but he said it none the less.

Draco smiled and did not voice his concerns; '_Did cases always take this long?' _Draco thought.

"You get all the answers you need, don't you Harry?" Draco teased.

Harry's grin faded as he pondered. "That's not true. I don't get a straight answer from _everyone_." Harry looked at Draco pointedly, his meaning clear on his face. Draco was thankful that the minimal light coming from the lamp posts did not expose his blush as he looked out the window. It cannot be denied that Draco liked to be vague and baffling to Potter.

There was a moment's silence. The car swerved out of the motorway and into dark secluded streets, the sound of invaded gravel and tyres pushing through the boundaries. "What are going to do when you get home?" Draco asked eventually, looking at Harry only briefly before looking out the window again.

"…I don't know. Probably just have something to eat and go to bed. You?" Harry questioned politely.

"About the same." Draco muttered.

Harry gulped and felt goosebumps press against the sleeves on his shirt as a small discomfort in the pit of his stomach stirred; the air of something left unsaid unsettled him. Which one of them had forgot to add something to their answer?

"Aren't you seeing that boyfriend of yours?" Harry asked, feeling the need to speak stunt his judgement on what would be appropriate to say. His eyebrows tensed slightly as he waited for his reply.

The question caught Draco off guard. "Who?" he snapped, genuinely shocked and confused.

Harry then looked just as baffled. "Urrr…what's-his-name...Mitchell?"

And then it dawned on to Draco. Blood flooded back up the Draco's face as he thought, _'Michael Westwood…my fictional character.' _He then wondered what he should tell the Auror.

'_Oh to hell with it.'_

"…I made him up," Draco said quickly after hesitating slightly, his cheeks burning even more with embarrassment.

Surprisingly, Harry chuckled and asked, "Why?"

If Draco had thought he was taken aback before, it was nothing to how surprised he felt now. The blonde stammered, wishing the car seat would swallow him as the X5 drove through the night. "Because…I…I…you know, I-"

"-You have odd ways of getting my attention, Draco." Harry cut in, his smile still resting on his face as he watched the faint roads ahead. Harry heard Draco inhale and exhale raggedly.

"…I _always_ want your attention, Potter." Draco's now quiet voice said.

A serious look had moulded onto Draco's face, watching patiently as Harry stared at the road. The accountant's heart collided against his rib case repeatedly when he noticed Harry's smile fade. Only then it dawned on Draco what a huge gamble he had just taken.

The Auror could feel Draco's eyes on him as goosebumps trailed again up his toned arms even more insistently. Where his forearms were exposed, Harry's hairs visibly stood up despite the heating. Harry swallowed nervously, not sure if he was entirely comfortable with where this conversation was heading.

"Can I ask you something, Harry?"

The car slowed down and knocked forward as Harry drove over a speed bump. "Go ahead." Harry said flatly, as he sped up again.

"What happened between you and Ginny Weasley?" Draco asked, watching the driver intently.

Harry did not reply…however his whole posture and the grip on his wheel became oddly stiff.

"Why did you break up?" Draco continued, keeping his voice quite casual with only a hint of eagerness.

Harry frowned and was clearly uncomfortable judging by the way he was stretching his neck and adjusting the hold on the wheel. After a while, the Auror coarsely said, "Umm…can we _not _talk about this?"

"And you always manage to dismiss it, whenever anyone asks..." Draco said, rolling his eyes.

Harry's jaw jutted out as he gnawed his teeth together but said nothing. _Now _Draco knew he was pestering Harry but his curiosity overcame the odd feeling that he was trying to enter forbidden territory. The very idea that there was something about Harry's life that Draco did not know about deeply unsettled the accountant. He preferred it as it was in school and in the first few months in the ministry; Draco preferred the days when _he_ was the one who knew everything you possibly could about Harry Potter.

Draco then added, "I…it's a part of your past that I have never been able to understand." The blonde crossed his arms and looked away from Harry who still had not replied to his last question. Draco muttered something about Weasley and Harry seeming so right for each other, disgust etched in his phrasing and voice.

Suddenly, Harry abruptly said, "We weren't."

He was loud and irritated, still staring out onto the streets engulfed by the blind sky. He was driving uncharacteristically quickly now. "Draco," Harry continued, quiet and collected once more. "I do not want to discu-"

"-You've clearly relaxed to the idea of telling me, Harry. You may as well…continue." Draco said, wanting to know desperately. A part of Draco thought, if he found out about this little corner of Harry's life, he would finally be able to understand Harry further and why he was always alone despite his good looks, charms and fame… "Just tell me, Harry."

Harry was fast becoming more infuriated, now that it was clear Draco was not going to stop asking. "It's GONE." Harry boomed.

Draco's eyes widened as he turned his head to the driver, dumbstruck at the shouting.

"It's the PAST." Harry added with thunder in his eyes as he squinted, trying to drive as fast of possible.

Draco gaped at Harry, concerned and surprised. One thing that needs to be understood about Malfoy is that he does not ever mean to make Harry _too_ angry; he just always managed to unintentionally. Draco licked his dry lips as he watched Harry let out a long breath.

"Why would I ever need to 'just tell you'?" Harry asked Draco, looking at him after turning a corner. "_We_ never talk about _our_ past." His eyes narrowed at the accountant as he made his point.

Harry had been slightly stunned at how close Draco's face was to his own when he had turned his head. A violent flip churned in his stomach as he watched Malfoy scan his eyes. Draco's gorgeous sharp features flashed into view in bright orange fluorescence whenever they passed a streetlamp. Harry and Draco looked at each other for several moments, re-visiting memories briefly. The orange glow was like the burn of Fiendfyre. As quick as lightening, it forced it's way in; flashes of broomsticks, fire, screaming, Crabbe, flying, flames, the war, the struggle, the heat, _Draco…_

"That's different." Draco replied quietly, watching Harry's iris through the round glasses as he separated the orange and searched for that luminous green.

"How is it different?" Harry snapped, changing gear so hard there was a sharp groan as parts moved too fast in the front bonnet.

Draco almost laughed. "Are you trying to convince me that your relationship with the Weaslette was as rocky as ours?" He was looking out the window again, not really able to make anything out of the consistent darkness.

Harry paused before replying with a defeated, "No. It wasn't." The Auror changed to a lower gear when he saw, through his headlamps, that they were nearing the end of a road. "I guess it isn't as extreme." Only temporarily did Harry sound amused before skating back to his serious tone. "That doesn't change the fact it is difficult to talk about."

The car then abruptly stopped, before it could plunge into a main road streaming with cars, looking like floating pairs of lights moving through a black mist. Both men hit the edges of their seatbelts from the force of the halt. Harry tilted his head towards Draco who turned to him also.

"Please try to understand." Harry said.

There was silence between the two while Harry indicated and pulled his black car into the new direction. As he gathered his new found mad speed again, zooming through the dark, he thought to himself. His face then postured into an angry scowl when Draco said nothing. He loathed the silent awkwardness that surfaced between him and Draco after moments like these.

"You_ always_ do this, Malfoy." Harry shouted.

Draco jumped at the suddenness of Harry's stupidly loud complaint. "What's wrong now?" he asked, agitated and mirroring Harry's rude tone.

"Come on. Look at us today; we've been getting along fine-" Harry began.

"-Yes, aside from the fact that we have been arguing every few seconds-"

"-But that was alright, that was petty…" Harry said. Draco watched Harry as he spoke. "Now we're…" Harry stopped to glance at Draco, knowing he'd be watching him.

The pair thought in unison, _'And now we're fighting.'_

Harry focused back on driving. He took long breaths before speaking quite calmly. "You always dig too deep." As quick as a flash, Harry was angry yet again. "Why can't you keep any of your questions to yourself?"

"I WAS JUST WONDERING." Draco shouted. "…I was _trying_ to make conversation."

"No you weren't, you were being nosey." Harry retorted. "Nosey about something that's a nothing-"

"If it's '_a nothing'_" Draco shouted, mocking Harry's low voice. "Why won't you talk about it? It is undeniably clear now this that is a testy subject with some kind of depth to it and I bet it has a lot to do with how irrationally and coldly you can behave sometimes! If it's no big deal, why did you shout at me? Hmm?" Draco was clearly smug about his perceptive argument by now.

"Because-" Harry looked at Draco, extraordinarily annoyed that Draco was shouting back. Malfoy did not sound right shouting… "Because…Because of lots of reasons, Draco!"

The blonde looked away from Harry, rolling his eyes.

"I don't _need_ to tell you about my personal past. Every-…I made a clean start after I broke up with _her,_ okay? I never want to think about_ her._" Harry said, rage clearly possessing him.

It did not go unnoticed to Draco that Harry could not say the Weasley's name out loud.

There was a dragged out pause as Harry drove for what felt like hours, down impersonal, identical roads, each as dark as the next.

"And I thought _I _was a closed door…" Draco muttered.

The Auror looked at Draco, filled with a strange combination of fresh aggravation, curiosity…and a dab of hurt. _'Why does everything he say bother me?' _Harry blushed as he swerved into another lane; only Draco made him that weak.

"I don't know…" Draco said. Harry listened up. He had not expected Draco to carry on speaking. "I just thought because we were…getting along I could…ask you something-…ummm…"

His tone changed back to his usual assertive smug slur. "But clearly I was wrong." He had tried to sound amused but instead sounded bitter.

"You don't always need to plunge deeper, Draco." Harry said. He wanted nothing more than to shut Draco up so he himself would stop feeling slightly guilty for making such a huge fuss out of a quite innocent question. "I think, in terms of how much we _know_ about each other, which is far too much by the way and our…you know…our…"

Draco glanced at Harry, wondering when the Auror had dropped his brain.

Harry shook his head and simply said, "I...We're _fine_ the way we are."

The additional 'simple' comment struck a very loud _painful _chord within Draco. _'I really wish he had just stopped talking.'_ The blonde thought. He said nothing as he stared out the window to his left, catching his wounded expression and his slightly sparkling grey eyes in the glass, as they drive past muggle street lights. Draco scowled, hating himself.

After a long deliberation, Draco faced forwards. "What is this?" Draco asked himself more than Harry. "What are we? Friends? Collea-"

"-Why do you need to question that?" The accountant looked at the driver. "…Actually, fuck _that. _It's _everything_. Why do you question _everything_?"

Draco turned away.

"You can't just let things be, Malfoy. I mean, we get along-"

"WE GET ALONG?" Draco shouted, his voice oozing with 'Are you kidding me?' "_We _get along?" He repeated, crossing his arms in that defiant manor he always had surrounding and poisoning his air. "Sorry, I was just so unaware that we are in fact _co-workers_ who get along so fucking well." Draco finished sarcastically.

"_Merlin's. _Sake_." _Harry whispered, running a hand through his hair, wanting to hex Draco into a thousand pieces so he would _just shut up_ about things that Harry tried not to think about.

And yet like feather landing gently onto a surface, the question filtered it's way into the Auror's mind. _'…Good question. What are you and Draco exactly then, Harry?'_

The X5 screeched to a stop at a red traffic light. The car was now on a street running past the back of a popular restaurant only ten minutes away from the Ministry for Magic phone booth. Usually the street was filled with parked cars but tonight it was empty.

Harry sighed and did something incredibly foolish and pathetic; he pushed the burden of this question to someone else for once, hoping they would give him the answer. "What is it? Are we more than that?" Harry asked quietly, typical rude sarcasm on his tongue despite his sincerity.

Draco said nothing…what could he say to a mean as irritating, argumentative and ridiculously in the dark as Harry Potter?

* * *

'_Yes._

_They were so much more than a 'we get along.'_

_They were so much more than co-workers, it was almost mad. They were a heated, conflicting combination of familiarity and friction. They were sincere, fresh and undeniably compatible despite the fighting and the wariness on Harry's part._

_He's an annoying dumb wanker who I actually can't stand yet I am completely infatuated with him.'_

* * *

When the accountant made no reply, Harry opened his mouth to argue, probably to call Draco stupid, an insinuating flirt, insane or something along those lines. But his words left him when his ears caught something…

There was a small but clear sound echoing through the inside of the car. How he had failed to notice it before this point was beyond his comprehensiom. Yet there it was.

It was an unmistakeable noise…**Tick. Tick. Tick.**

Harry's eyes widened in the red, turned orange, turned green light, as he was set ablaze with shock and supreme fear.

There was a _bomb _in the car.

* * *

**Note to readers: **everything explained okay? Thanks to _all _the people following the story :D

pleeeeease review :)


	8. To Witness is to experience

He had finished. He had asked the question.

And Draco had not answered him.

Why? Because Draco simply did not know the answer.

* * *

Malfoy had turned his head towards to the back of the restaurant next to the traffic lights. Without saying a word, the accountant looked at the air vents drilled into the top of the back door; he wanted to ask Potter what they were but the silence was too stiff, thick and suffocating to break through.

'_If he had asked that question in a different tone, Harry could have meant something else entirely.'_ Draco thought, desolation in his face reflecting off the car's window, glowing in the red light. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two long fingers.

…Then something unexpected happened. No matter how in character it was, Draco _always_ loved watching Potter panic.

"ABANDON SHIP." Harry screamed, as he attacked his door handle. Draco did not even flinch as he watched him, quite amused.

"We're not on a fucking ship." Draco muttered whilst glancing out the window to his side, trying to see if he could spot some kind of problem.

"Merlin." Harry panted angrily. Before Draco could protest, Harry unclasped the passenger seatbelt and grabbed Draco's collar and arm before dragging him out of the car. Draco scrambled, trying to break free, as the gear stick and wheel painfully grazed into his side and leg.

"Pott-…wha-…Harry…will you-Potter-…What are you…-Pott…-POTT-…"

"-MY NAME IS NOT POT, MALFOY."

As soon as they were out of the muggle car, Harry grabbed Draco's wrist and ran through the night. The accountant stumbled to keep up, barely able to see Harry's ebony hair rustle in the late cold wind as the pair sprinted in a random direction. The only thing to be heard was the distant sounds of cars, gasping and the clicking of Draco's expensive leather shoes. As soon as the X5 was a long distance away Harry stopped and doubled over, trying to regain his breath. The blonde also stopped and squinted around; by the looks of what he could see from distant lamp light, they were under the motorway they drove past not a moment ago.

Potter's face was extremely tense with worry when he stood upright. Draco smirked. Standing upright, the dark haired Auror opened his mouth to explain his actions…when he was cut off by the accountant.

"Potter, you seem to have an awful lot of concern for me, ra-"

"Oh for MERLIN'S FUCKING SAKE." Harry cut the blonde short as his voice echoed against the overhead road. Draco blinked, completely silenced. He had not expected Potter to shout.

"WILL YOU STOP THAT?" Harry boomed. Regardless of being taken aback, Draco leaned against the motorway bridge, watching Harry with, what he hoped was, an expression of casual amusement. "I just saved-You always…you…you…"

Draco smirked generically as he crossed his arms, happily waiting. He noticed Potter's fist shake slightly and tried not to be unnerved by the sight.

Harry's voice, however, was skilfully steady. "You have a gift, Malfoy."

Draco raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"A gift…to turn around the meaning of _everything_ I say and do…to make it revolve around you." Harry said quietly, with a look of determination and anger.

Draco's face had fallen and was now blank. He did not know how to react to this. "I hate it when you do that," Harry continued, shaking his head slightly, looking to the ground and then back up at Draco. His eyes were unmoving as they milked in Draco's startled face. He sighed and then scowled. "As for your…little…emotional exploration in the car, listen to this. No matter how much you believe it…"

Harry stepped forward. Draco felt his body stiffen with panic.

"…how much you think it."

Another step.

"…or how much you WANT it. I'm _not_ out to_ get _you."

'_Stop talking.'_ Draco pleaded in his mind as his smile from long ago forever disappeared, replaced with a locked tight jaw. Draco's arms remained crossed; a clear barrier between him and Harry, if Potter decided to come any closer.

"Now stop being delusional and remember that you are…" Malfoy's lustrous eyes shone with independent light while they bore into Harry's; what felt like a flame ignited inside of Draco's abdomen.

"…_nothing_ more than my _colleague_." The last word was practically spat. The two men were nose to nose and only one was in control of their quivering. It was not a sign of intimacy. It was overflowing with scolding confrontation. The fire within destroyed everything. "Understood?" Harry asked gently, darkness creeping through the anger in his emerald eyes. _'Those beautiful emerald eyes.'_

Draco was rooted to the ground as Potter briskly walked past him, back towards the car. Draco did nothing. The inevitable burning pain raging in his stomach stopped everything. It screamed and begged to be released or at least be acknowledged but Draco did nothing. He brushed down his suit and ignored the scorching sting in his eyes. Without daring to blink, Draco walked calmly in the opposite direction, not able to see where he was going. In the distance, the thundering rattle of a car exploding shattered through the air. Draco paused to look over his shoulder at the destroyed vehicle. Blazes bombarded his eardrums and his surroundings glowed in the warmth of the golden light. He then watched Potter, now a dark blur amongst the flames, perform a powerful Aqua Charm to extinguish the fire. He then made the wreckage vanish before apparating out of sight.

…The source may have gone but the smoke had already risen.

Anyone who saw Draco, as he walked away from the smoke floating out of nowhere, barely visible in the cloudy night sky, would have thought he was a man with direction. However, as he strolled, he knew he was lost to the world.

He genuinely believed that he meant nothing to Harry Potter.

* * *

When Harry entered his office the next morning, he unsurprised to see a small stack of witness forms sitting on his desk, waiting to be filled out. This required Draco Malfoy. Ignoring the flip in his stomach, Harry sat down and reached for one of the parchments. As he furrowed through his draws, looking for his favourite blue quill, footsteps tapped down the corridor. Kingsley, wearing dark purple robes, walked in, nodding curtly at Harry who nodded back.

"Got a quill?" Harry asked.

Without speaking, Kingsley took out a stubby black quill with 'MoM' etched near the rim and chucked it towards the Auror before closing the door.

There was a deep breath. "This muggle activity relating to the mass theft is very unsettling, Mr. Potter." Kingsley said briskly, worry in his voice.

'_Muggle activity…car bomb…Draco…'_ Harry never did find out whether or not Draco made it back to his Manor safely. He winced when he realised Malfoy would have had no choice but to apparate, something Draco was not comfortable doing after the severe mishap six months ago. Harry's stomach swelled slightly as he wrote his own name at the top of a form; _'Stop feeling guilty.'_

"I have to say, you did the right thing by not tampering with the bomb." Kingsley said, nodding to himself. Harry paused for a moment before continuing with the form. "…Merlin knows what magic and those tiny muggle death traps put together would cause."

When Harry still said nothing, Kingsley frowned. "Make sure that you leave out no details. Mr. Malfoy is scheduled to come here at eleven. Try your best not to forget."

'_Like I could.' _Harry thought bitterly.

When Kingsley again received no reply, he wondered what exactly happened the night before between the two wizards that was causing Harry to behave this way. He added no more than, "In your capable hands, Potter" as he left the office.

Harry shook the quill, trying to get it work, barely noticing his boss leaving.

'"_Ministry of Magic quills are a load of bollocks, Potter," Draco once said. "Even worse than those muggle things. What were they called again? Bi-…Bil…B-…"'_

"Biros." Harry said out loud, smiling as he remembered. Then, to his annoyance, he found he had actually written the word out. Cursing, he tossed the parchment aside and started afresh, trying desperately to stay focused.

He thanked Godric that Ron had taken the day off; if he had seen Harry like this, he would have been unbearable.

* * *

From exactly 10:39am, Harry had been glancing at his watch and the dull oak door, on average, every twenty four seconds. _'Maybe Draco had forgotten._' Entertaining this impossible idea, Harry was able to ignore the possibility that Malfoy was avoiding seeing Harry.

Yet, Harry felt his face go extremely warm when there was a knock at the door. It was 11:13am. Harry almost ran towards the door handle causing him to bang into his shelving unit, making his glass jar of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans to drop onto the floor.

Draco stood outside the door patiently, slightly amused as he listened to Harry stomp around whilst dropping various items, swearing and repairing them as he made his way towards the door.

Harry opened it at long last and bluntly said, "You're late."

Draco strolled in, ignoring Harry's presence as he scanned the witness forums upside down. He took off his blazer, placing it on the chair in front of Harry's desk. The accountant turned and muttered "Now you know how irritating it is."

Not wanting to argue, knowing it would not lead anywhere good at this moment in time, Harry simply walked back round to his desk and sat in his chair. Draco whipped out a light cream quill with a jet black rim, passing it politely to Harry, as soon as he noticed the quill the Auror had been using.

"Name." Harry asked, looking at the parchment as Malfoy sat down.

"Brick Wall." Malfoy said, flatly. He shrugged when Harry looked up, annoyed.

"It that with a 'B' or a 'P'?" Harry asked, as he dipped Draco's quill in the green inkpot,

* * *

The two men filled out quite a few forms about what actually led to the event without bickering. However, Draco did notice that Potter looked up at him very infrequently; Harry noticed Malfoy gave very short blunt answers and seemed eager to finish the form as soon as possible.

It was _Harry_ who started the argument.

"'Please describe briefly your reasons for being present in an official Auror investigation.' Now _this_ should be good." Harry said with mock cheerfulness, leaning back in his chair. It was the first time he had looked at the blonde straight in the eyes since he had entered the office.

"Well that's simple enough," Draco said, acting like Harry's tone had not bothered him. Harry titled his head. "I'm a key part of this investigation."

Potter actually barked out a laugh. "Sure, Right." Harry chortled, reaching for Draco's quill.

"Potter, 6 million galleons has been stolen from the Ministry vault." Draco was speaking so coldly, it reeked of _charade_. It was too forced. "I'm the Head of Accounts. I talk numbers. You talk crap."

Harry rolled his eyes at that.

"It's called balance." Draco concluded with a smug dismissive wave of the hand. The accountant believed that his point was duly made so they could move on to the next question. Harry thought differently.

"You volunteered to _interfere._" Harry said bitterly. "Like you always do with _my _cases."

Draco had to think of convincing retort fast.

"First of all, I did not _volunteer_. Your boss approached me personally. And secondly, your cases are much more interesting than logging how much our minister pays his mascots so excuse me for wanting to venture out of the account transactions." Draco smirked when Potter looked pissed with himself for not knowing what to say.

Quite a while later, Harry spoke.

"I don't like having you around."

Draco folded his arms (his barrier) and painted his expression to seem animatedly interested even though the comment stung…a lot.

"It's the…way you…you speak to me. I don't like it." The Auror said. Harry frowned, knowing he had wanted to say 'It's the things you say. They make me uncomfortable.'

Draco paused before asking the question he needed an answer to. His astounding grey orbs looked at Harry's chiselled features. "Are you saying you want nothing to do with me?" His voice came out unusually shaky and gentle.

The question struck a nerve.

"What are you getting at, Malfoy? What do you possibly give me?" Harry ranted as he leaned forward with eyebrows furrowed. Draco's face was unreadable. "What do I _gain_ from your presence?"

The blonde regretted speaking. He had unwillingly opened violent gates which he now could not shut.

"I'm BOMBARDED with riddles and flirtations from you…" Harry continued, his eyes constantly watching the man opposite him, who refused to look at him now. "You hang around me as though you're waiting for me to…let something slip."

Draco turned his heard to look at Potter. He opened his mouth but closed it again, not really knowing what he could possibly say. Now that Draco was looking at him, Harry leaned forward more.

"Do you honestly think I have anything to confess to you?" Harry asked quietly yet managing to make every word as sharp as a knife's edge. "…Do you believe that?"

Harry stood up. Their eyes were still locked.

"You're everywhere. All the time. And I can't escape." Harry said, sounding like he was in pain. _'IT'S COMING OUT WRONG. IT'S ALL COMING OUT WRONG. STOP!'_ Angry pleading thoughts shouted in Harry's mind. Draco swallowed trying to wash out the destructive smoke gagging him in his throat. "I couldn't at school and now _here…_It's as though you're searching through every nook of my life you can reach."

There was a long, painful silence. Draco licked his dry lips and sarcastically muttered, at long last, "…what can I say."

"I'm not fucking surprised you have nothing to say." Harry retorted quickly, face tense. "You never did have any explanation for you're a-"

"YOU THINK I HAVE NO EXPLANATION? NO REASON WHATSOEVER OTHER THAN TO HOVER AROUND YOU LIKE SOME, SOME-"

Harry watched Draco stand when the blonde had stopped speaking abruptly. The blonde now swallowed again. His voice came out extremely coarse, contrasting with his usual voice of silk. "There is truly nothing you gain from me being near you, is there?"

Harry swiftly looked away, crossing his arms in a Malfoy-like-fashion. His furrowed eyebrows and angry expression clearly agreed.

Draco breathed in and out, begging the pain to have mercy on him.

"But I have everything to gain from yours."

Turning his head, Harry looked at Draco, his eyes emotionless. Neither of the pair blinked.

Draco's world hesitated.

"I love you." Draco stuttered.

The words hung in the air. There was silence. Harry looked away towards the window to his side, fidgeting slightly with a wedge of panic, the reaction to being thrown into unprecedented waters. Draco picked up his blazer and took a step backwards before speaking again.

"…And I don't know why." He finished slowly.

The Auror watched Draco leave the room without uttering a word. Guilt made his stomach swell and weighed him down into his seat. The sharp eruption in his torso caused him to double over. He propped his elbows onto the desk and ran his hands through his hair moving his gaze slightly to the right. Harry looked at the light cream quill that Draco had given to him. Only then he wondered feebly what the true extent was, of the severe damage he had just caused to the man was currently leaning against his office door, in the corridor, shaking uncontrollably.

But then an even _more_ worrying thought entered his mind. It was quiet and justified.

'…_You have just lied to him, Harry.' _It mused cynically

* * *

**Note of Readers: **This plot super confuses the shit out of **me **and I wrote it :O

so who do you reckon planted the bomb guys? and what do you think so far? _Review?_

Thank you if you're following. Much love ^^


	9. Hermione's bump: Part I

_The Ministry protests reflect the student protests in Britain; fucking government raising tuition fees ¬¬_

* * *

The Ministry for Magic was facing one of it's busiest morning. An American senator had Portkeyed straight to the British Ministry to discuss controversial proposals which could ban overseas Healer training. The wizarding population was on the rise and demands on industries and governments worldwide, particularly health-care and the ministry, had been higher than ever before. Many prospective healers found that there was no alternative but to study in the states therefore forcing American wizarding hospitals to provide the b.h.p (British Healer's Permit). Senior healers had had enough and were demanding some kind of filter to be put in place, hoping to dub down the number of young healers studying in their hospitals.

So the Ministry was full of journalist, protesters and American wizards. Through the throng, the shouting and jinxed flyers exploding in the air before multiplying onto bawling folk below, a young married couple was feeding their way through towards the gates, bickering as they walked.

"I still cannot believe you managed to _fall_ into that fountain," Hermione said. She shook her head slightly as she walked hand in hand with her husband through the ministry atrium, ignoring the noise.

"It was an accident." Ron replied, eyeing the beautiful fountain. A few months after the fall of the dark lord, a wizard from abroad was invited to the ministry to carve a new fountain; it was now of a goddess named Nampula, rumoured to be a veela, riding a unicorn. Her arms were outstretched as she sat on the marble creatures back, smiling at the ceiling as water gushed out of palms. Several months ago, on the frightful day that the Apparation system went haywire, Ron had ran towards Hermione, shouting with happiness, having not seen her in hours…but he had managed to trip and fall into the fountain. Shivering, Ron climbed out the pool soaked through to his bones, his face burning with mortification…and much to Ron's and many onlooker's shock, the fountain had pointed at him and boomed with laughter.

"It was extremely embarrassing actually, Ronald." Hermione grinned. Ron craned his neck, looking over the sea of heads and cameras, still watching the marble veela. Her slate eyes blinked into life as her face titled towards him. She winked before looking up as usual and stopped moving.

Ron scoffed. "The bitch still recognises me," he said under his breath.

The couple joined the end of the queue for the elevator, watching hundreds of paper planes clamber past each other over head before they started banging simultaneously against the closed doors, demanding entry. "Our _one_ mutual day off and we're coming into your department," Hermione said.

Ron smiled. "We'll go straight to café rouge after I grab my folder. On the plus, we get to say hi to Harry."

Hermione smiled back as the two finally climbed into a packed elevator. "I'm still worried about him, you know."

"…me too, babe." The red head replied, frowning.

* * *

When Hermione and Ron finally stepped out of the elevator on level two, they locked fingers and walked side by side.

The couple turned one corner and went through a pair of giant wooden doors. There used to be dozens of tiny cubicles sat next to each other, row after row with newspaper clippings stuck to the walls and parchments and spells flying in every direction however two years ago the entire Auror department had been revamped after a petition against the lack of space and privacy had threatened to go underway.

"Should I be going in elevators?" Hermione asked, sounding worried.

"…What do you mean?" her husband asked as they walked, knowing he would probably regret asking.

"I mean, is it good for the baby?" she said, genuinely concerned as she rubbed her ballooned belly.

"Uh, I don't know, Herm-"

"Because, if you think about it, it's an enclosed metal space, rising and falling with just magic holding it up therefore has very little _physical_ stability and it's filled with compressed air that has probably been festering, some of it, for a good few hours, well, judging by how lapse magical maintenance has become, so really I-"

"-Hermione?" Ron interrupted, halting in the corridor.

The pregnant woman stopped and asked, "Yes?"

"You're hardly going to use stairs, are you?"

A pause followed as Hermione deliberated this. "No, I guess not…"

The Weasleys were so engrossed in their conversation that when they turned a corner, Ronald collided into a man walking towards him. The other, also distracted, was walking so rapidly that he managed to make quite an impact, forcing Ronald to jostle onto the floor,

"IF YOU HAD HIT MY WIFE, I SWEAR TO MERLIN I WOULD HAVE-" Ron stammered at the top of his voice like a mad man as he pushed and scrambled on the ground, blocking out the slight throb in his side from the collision. Only when he noticed his wife consoling the other man did he register who he had knocked into. He should have figured it out, he saw so much _blonde_. "Shit, Malfoy, mate, you alright?"

Draco Malfoy had been sent backwards, hitting his head against the corner of a wall before falling to the floor himself. The accountant winced, adding head trauma to his list of problems. When he heard the Weasleys rambling, he waved a dismissive hand in their general direction and muttered, "I'm fine."

He tried to get up only to be forced to sit back down by both Hermione and Ron who were in turn tutting and saying words of disapproval. Draco was breathing heavily, blood was rushing to his face, his head hurt, his palms felt clammy and he really wanted to get the fuck out of this entire floor since his brain was screaming _Potter knows you love him, Potter knows you love him, you're fucked _over and over again but Granger and her stupid tubby husband would not let him. Draco rolled his eyes, wondering what it was with the golden trio and not letting him get up.

"I'm fine," he repeated, louder this time. He winced at the sharp twinge in his crown.

Hermione noticed Draco's discomfort so knelt down beside him. "Draco, just calm down, alright." Hermione said tenderly, watching the blonde glance around and shake.

She frowned, knowing Draco was troubled. Only after she scooted carefully onto the floor next to Draco and signalled angrily to her husband to join them, did she ask, "So what's been happening?"

Draco turned a worn out, hurt face to look at his friend, hoping his expression would convey somehow that it was not good. It was sweet, them sitting with him like this. In some pretentious way, it was almost poetic. He sighed and felt his stomach and eyes ache. He was tired, drained, heartbroken and wanted to go to bed and not leave his house or see anyone. Draco glanced at Ronald and saw that he too was waiting intently.

He turned back to Hermione and rubbed the back of his head. "I told him, Granger." Draco said in a feeble, reluctant voice.

There was a pause before Hermione, wide eyed, took a deep breath and replied, "…You did?" She looked in another direction.

"I did," the young man replied.

There was silence between the three.

Everyone knew they should not be silence. Everyone knew someone should say something so they would not hear the distant sounds of muffled carpet footsteps or the movement of heavy elevator doors or the ministry's old magic purring in the walls. All three knew that words of comfort, rationalization or banter were needed: that is what acquaintances do in situations with too much feeling.

Draco chuckled humorlessly at the awkward silence. "And now I'm here, on the floor outside his office, with you two."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. _There it was_.

Ronald bowed his head, biting his lip, wanting to defend his friend by saying Harry was just being silly, childish or anything else that he called Harry whenever he denied his obvious crush on Malfoy…but it was not quite enough. He kept quiet, feeling it was not quite his place to say something. Saying something would be him attempting to justify Draco's heart break; that was far to heavy for him.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth like a fish, hopping between angry, defensive and sad. After a while, she too decided to stay quiet.

They said nothing to each other. The couple who Harry knew best had nothing they could say to the man who loved him.

But suddenly, Hermione started to rut around trying to force her planet to stand up with her.

"Right…this has…gone…far enough," She huffed heaving herself upright.

"Wh-What do you mean?" Draco stammered, looking slightly worried and amused as he watched her from the floor.

Hermione rested her hands on the curves of her hips, trying to catch her breath after the surprisingly large amount of effort it had taken her to stand.

"This whole Harry being a prat business and me not being allowed to get to the bottom of it! It's reached its limit." Hermione looked between the bemused expression on her husband and the fake placid look of her friend's. She lifted a hand and pointed at Harry's door. "I'm talking to him about this."

Ron chuckled, knowing this should be interesting.

Draco instantly looked horrified.

"NO!"

Malfoy lunged and grabbed Hermione's arms, who in response tugged and damned her lumpy belly for tiring her out so easily. "Hermione, Her-, Hermione, listen, LISTEN, listen to me-"

Eventually, she stopped protesting.

"You promised you'd never say anything," Draco pointed out, holding her wrists looking deep into her brown eyes. Hermione looked into Draco's and felt a thousand anxieties.

"…You're suffering, Draco." She said, her lip quivering. The sad smile she got in return triggered something. Concern, rebellion, pity, fear, worry: she felt the burn in her heart, on a tiny scale compared to the reality, at the idea of how she would have felt if Ron had so out rightly pushed her away right from the beginning. It was so obvious Harry was infatuated with Draco and he loved Harry so much and yet Harry was acting this way and it made no sense and-

and-

and-

and it all became too much.

Hermione's jaw dropped as Draco and Ron looked at her apprehensively. Draco shook her slightly, glancing at her husband as he stood up. The red head shook her too, to which Draco said, "What? Is your shake better than mine?"

Ron subsided a snide remark on how stubborn and camp Malfoy sounded, as he started poking his wife gently. "Hermy?" Ron asked sweetly, tapping her cheeks.

The two men watched as Hermione turned her head rigidly and looked at Ron. She gulped and looked completely terrified before taking a deep breath and stuttering, "I…I think my water just broke."

Draco beamed. Ron did not.

"The…the...crowd downstairs…we'll never get out…" Ron said, eyes wide. Draco's grin faded as he looked between the couple, ensure of what they were talking about.

Hermione held Ron's face and muttered, "I know."

* * *

**Note to readers:**

A Weasley's on the way! And Hermione has been sworn to stay quiet, being the stirrer that she is. Oh god, I can't wait to write the next chapter myself :D

Review and comment. Any plot holes that needs explaining, do tell! ^^


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